


A Kiss at Noon

by Leptailurus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leptailurus/pseuds/Leptailurus
Summary: Ana Amari thinks she needs to help Pharah and Mercy realize their feelings for each other so she coerces them into a one-week long game.There are 6 rules.1. Tell each other 5 compliments every day2. Ask 5 personal questions every day and answer them honestly3. Share breakfast and dinner every day4. Spend an hour off base together every day5. Sleep in the same bed6. Share one kiss at noonThe two of them agree to play along, just to get Ana off their backs. Mercy believes this is a sure win for her: All they need to do is not fall in love within that one week (or Ana wins). Pharah, however, soon realizes the benefits of that game.In a special twist, the readers will get to decide who will win the game.((The whole thing is written and will slowly be uploaded in chapters))





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> [It was 5 am, I was super tired when I came up with this. I drowsily sent the entire story concept to my gf right then and then I of course had to write it.]

“Ana, just get. Off. My. Back.” Mercy pointedly slammed the clipboard onto the table, held her breath and counted to ten to not do anything rash like whack that sturdy clipboard over Ana’s head.

“You haven’t even thought about it, have you, child?” she replied, shaking her head disappointedly.

Mercy looked at her, incredulous. “No, I haven’t. It’s as ridiculous now as it was the first time. I don’t know what you are trying to do, but I am not interested in your daughter. We are friends.” She shook her head and turned her back to Ana pointedly, shoving the clipboard into a drawer and slamming it shut.

“I am not trying anything. I am _seeing_ ,” Ana insisted.

Mercy snorted. “Oh. Mein. Gott! Where? In your imagination?! And why on earth are you trying to hook me up to your adult daughter? Which mother does that?!”

“You are just digging your heels in because I am pushing.” Ana seemed completely composed.

The young doctor threw her arms up. “Why am I even having this insane conversation?! Get out of my office!” She could only chalk this up to some sort of age-related dementia or likewise, because no sane person would do such a thing. Sure, every mother wants their child to hook up well, but blatantly walking up to a potential suspect and telling them to go out with their child was a bit much. Especially when the child herself had made no such indication.

Mercy would never debate that Pharah was a nice young woman, indeed, and they always had a great time together. But if she were to go out with everyone who was kind and attractive and a good friend, Mercy would have been rather busy in her life. 

It was like Ana was having a premature midlife crisis in Pharah’s stead – or maybe, she really wanted a genuine chance of getting some grandchildren before she’d become too old. In that case, she’d have been better off to hooking Pharah up with Lúcio or another potential sperm donor. 

Well, at least that meant Ana had accepted that her daughter didn’t go for men. And Mercy regretted that she had not been way more secretive about her own preferences. If Ana had thought Mercy straight as broomstick, maybe she wouldn’t have this problem right now.

This was the seventh time Ana had brought it up. At first Mercy had been really confused, now she was just endlessly annoyed.

“I am trying to-“ Ana began, but Mercy decided to just leave her own office and slam the door shut behind her.

“Children…!” Ana sighed.

\---

“Stop it, mom!” Pharah fired a rocket at the practice target, hoping the explosion would drown out Ana’s voice or at least deter her and make her go someplace else. 

“She is single, she is attractive, she is smart, she likes women and you are in lo-“

_BOOM._

As if it wasn’t hard enough without her mother constantly reminding her. Pharah threw a glance at the computer that was connected to her suit. Seventy-two percent.

“I am enjoying her company very much the way it is currently, thank you very much.”

Ana crossed her arms. “And you are lying to yourself about that.”

_BOOM._

Seventy-nine percent.

“I am not going to destroy my friendship with her, mom. She is clearly not interested. Leave it,” Pharah snapped back.

It was true. Just recently, Mercy and Pharah had been out for lunch and ended up on the topic of relationships in general. The conversation had made two things very clear: Mercy avoided mixing work and love and she also thought that in these unstable times and with her busy job, any relationship was bound for a bitter end. She did not even consider getting a cat or a guinea pig because she had no time for that sort of thing.

“Or so she says,” Ana insisted.

_BOOM._

Eighty-five percent.

“And so she means,” Pharah returned stubbornly. “Look, mum, we are in the middle of trying to make this planet a better place. It isn’t easy and Mercy has enough on her mind. She does not need my feelings to bother her further.” 

In her mind, Pharah added that Mercy was a peace-loving woman while Pharah embodied the values of a good mercenary and blew people up for a living. It was a miracle they got along so well when Pharah basically stood for the exact thing that Mercy despised so much. She was certain that the doctor preferred a clean headshot like Ana could administer over targets being ripped apart by splattering rocket damage. Of course what Mercy mostly preferred was no violence at all. No, Mercy would never go out with her.

_BOOM._

Ninety-eight percent.

“Exactly. You both don’t have time to look around and you are both in constant danger.” Ninety-nine percent. “You should both live fully now, or it might all be too late. Trust me.”

A hundred percent. 

“Mum, do you want me to aim that rocket barrage at you or the target? Because right now, I do not know which direction I prefer!” Pharah snapped.

\---

“Mercy,” Ana stopped the doctor in her tracks, ignoring the obvious eye roll. Mercy had ignored, avoided and evaded her for days, but Ana had not expected a more welcoming greeting. However, the doctor Mercy often too preoccupied to really notice Ana in time to avoid running into her. She was also predictable – she had a roughly consistent schedule and got hungry at quite specific hours. Cornering her in the kitchen was just too easy. Pharah was far less predictable in her actions, unless she was given an assignment or a duty to fulfill, which she did as soon as possible, swiftly and with meticulous precision.

In short, manipulating things to get Mercy and Pharah to be exactly where she wanted them to be was extremely easy. Sure she could have waited for them to just have a chat and then sneak up on them, but where was the fun in that?

“Ana,” Mercy replied with a tone that could only be described as an audible eye roll.

“Come with me. It is important.” The reluctance was evident in Mercy’s eyes. “I need you for just a minute.”

Mercy sighed, giving in. “Fine. One minute.” She followed Ana down the hall to the hangar where Pharah was busy loading a transporter with supplies. Ana stopped Pharah as she emerged from the back door, Mercy still by her side.

“Pharah – Mercy – I need to talk to the both of you.”

Mercy gave a snorting laugh in disbelief, grasping rather quickly what this was about. “I can’t believe this! You are not serious!” She turned to go, but Ana grabbed her arm harshly. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Pharah frowned at both Mercy and Ana – suspicion in every bone of her body. “What is going on?”

“I tried to talk to the both of you separately,” Ana defended herself pointedly. “To no avail.”

Mercy shook her head, throwing an annoyed look at Ana and an incredulous one at Pharah. “Has she been nagging you, too, in her matchmaking efforts?”

Pharah nearly forgot to breathe. “Mum, what did you say to Mercy?!” she asked, feeling thoroughly alarmed – to the very tips of her fingers. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she asked herself, how bold her mother could possibly be.

“Only that you two are a good match and should go out,” Ana replied nonchalantly.

“I am not having this!” Mercy yelled out incredulously, trying to yank her arm free from Ana’s grip.

“Hold on, child!” Ana tried to appease her. “I have a suggestion to make.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear it!” Mercy’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. Pharah bit her lower lip. She wanted to run far, far away, but she was also a little worried about leaving her mother alone with Mercy. It looked like they were about to bash each other’s heads in.

“You and Pharah go out for one week – under the conditions I give you – and I will never nag either of you about this again.”

“What?” The word burst out of Pharah before she could even think of stopping it. “Mum, don’t be ridiculous – you can’t dictate that two people go out with each other.”

Mercy, however, put on a thoughtful face. “One week you say? And then you will never, ever, ever annoy me about this again?”

“Never ever,” Ana confirmed.

“I am fine with that,” Mercy decided very swiftly. “What about you, Pharah?”

“What now?” Pharah only brought out. How could this silly idea of her mother’s even be up for consideration? 

“I am not that appalling as a girlfriend,” Mercy retorted. “You can bare it for a week, I promise.”

Bare it?! She’d be thrilled to have Mercy as her girlfriend. But in a genuine way – not this. Obviously she could not say that so right here. “How would that even work? You can’t just call someone your girlfriend because some crazy old lady dictates it and that somehow makes a relationship.”

“Ah!” Ana cut in. “That is where my conditions come into place.”

“Let’s hear it,” Mercy said, tapping her foot impatiently.

“You are to have breakfast and dinner together every day.”

“Acceptable,” Mercy commented.

“You tell each other five compliments every day and you ask each other five personal questions every day which you will answer honestly.”

Mercy nodded. Pharah was still trying to grasp what was happening here.

“You are to spend an hour away from the base together with each other every day.”

“That can be done,” Mercy agreed.

“You will sleep in the same bed.”

_“MUM!”_

“Come on, you have had sleepovers before, Pharah, right?” Mercy asked. “It’s not a big deal.”

Yeah, it wasn’t, unless you constantly felt like you want to jump the bones of the person next to you. Pharah feared that such a week would be a week without sleep for her.

“And last: You have to share a kiss with each other at noon, every day.”

“Peck on the lips is okay, ja?” Mercy clarified.

“That would count.”

“Deal.”

“Wait a second!” Pharah protested. 

“Seriously, is any of that so terrifying that it is not worth getting her off our backs?” Mercy asked.

“That’s not what I said – but---.“ She needed something to criticize about this plan before it was too late. She fished in her mind for anything she could say. “We don’t even know what happens, if we fail any of the tasks!”

“For every hour you are late with the kiss, you have to give each other an extra kiss. If you fail to fulfill any of the given tasks in one day, the trial will be prolonged for another day to make up for it.”

“I am not going to fail,” Mercy clarified. “It’s a deal. When do we start?”

Pharah gaped – was no one going to ask her opinion about that?!

“Tomorrow at breakfast.”

“Fine. Your room or mine, Pharah?”

“What?!” 

“To sleep in. We need to share a bed starting tomorrow evening. Yours or mine?”

Wait – so this was a definitely done deal now? How did that happen? “Yours. At least she does not have a secret key for that one.”

“You have a point.” She turned to Ana, finally pulling her arm free. “Can I go now?”

“But of course!” Ana said. 

Pharah stared at Mercy. What on earth had she just agreed to?

Mercy gave a long sigh. “That’s a small price to pay for getting her to stop telling me I need to go out with you every damn day.”

Yes, probably… but obviously it was an unwanted price for Mercy to pay. Pharah’s stomach seemed to curl in on itself and she felt majorly sick all of a sudden. If she had needed any more confirmation that Mercy did not want her that way, she had just received it.

‘She thinks doing this is a total burden. Thanks mom. Thanks a lot, really,’ she thought. ‘That is going to be the worst week ever.’ 

“I gotta go back to my work,” she said out loud and turned back to the transporter.

“So do I. See you at breakfast.”

And that was it. The deal was done.


	2. Day One

DAY ONE

I tried to chase my mother down to ask her what the heck she had been thinking and what she thought to achieve with that idea, but from that moment on, mum seemed to have vanished off the face of the planet. I also had no idea when Mercy would eat breakfast. All I knew was that Mercy preferred cereal in the mornings, though she and Reinhardt had often complained about not being able to get some specific baked good that apparently was common for breakfast where they came from.

To not miss out on breakfast and to not mess with Mercy’s schedule, I canceled my morning jog and stopped by the kitchen every 30 minutes starting at 6:30 am. Mercy turned up at eight, morning-grumpy and tired. I did not say anything to not make her more irritated and just ate quietly next to her, hoping it would count. I also hoped Mercy would remember what she had agreed to. But as I was sitting there, eating away, I began to wonder how seriously Mercy was even going to take this. As long as mum wasn’t watching, we could tell her we fulfilled all the tasks – without doing any of the things she had said.

Mercy slurped her coffee and it seemed to revive her spirits. I had never known she was one of the people you just couldn’t talk to before their first coffee of the day. 

“I like your hair,” Mercy said. 

“What?”

“A compliment.” 

“Oh…!” It was one of mum’s tasks. So we were going to take that somewhat seriously. “Thanks. I suppose…! Uhm… I- like the color of your eyes.”

“Thanks.”

It dawned on me that once we had run out of body parts this task would become increasingly harder. I’d better sit down and make a list of all the things I liked about Mercy and cross out all the ones I could not say out loud. 

“Why did you agree to this?” It probably wasn’t a personal question, but it was at least something I really wanted to know. “I mean – you seemed utterly annoyed by the idea.”

“I am annoyed by Ana. I could think of far worse things that spending time with you and learning more about you.” 

“Oh. Okay.” That wasn’t too bad.

“So. You have never been with a man? I never asked you,” Mercy said over her coffee. 

I nearly choked on my food. Well that sure counted as a personal question! Mercy really didn’t do warm ups, did she?! It was only 8:10 in the morning on our first day in this silly game. And here she was asking whom I had sex with, knowing I’d have to answer honestly!

“I have. I didn’t always know what I wanted and I was a woman in the military. Things get a little rampant there at times.”

“Oh, I see,” Mercy accepted the answer. “Well, ask me something back,” she encouraged. “We can do the rest later.”

“Do you enjoy being with women more or with men?” I asked, trying to stay safe in the same category.

“Huh… good question. I think I prefer women as romantic partners and men for fun in bed.” The answer was followed by a smirk. “But honestly, it’s not like women don’t have any means to compensate in the bedroom.”

Oh damn, what a conversation! I chuckled, poking at my cereal. I had understood Mercy very well and tried very hard not to imagine anything. One thing was for sure: Sleeping over at Mercy’s, I would not touch any of her drawers or boxes. There are things a girl may keep for herself.

Mercy finished her meal and put the bowl into the dish washer, then grabbed herself another mug of coffee to – as always – withdraw to her office. “I see you at noon,” she said as she left.

I watched her leave, shaking my head to clear her mind. 

Yes, at noon. When we would kiss.

\---

“Mum! What were you thinking?”

My mother nonchalantly checked her watch. “It’s almost noon. You better not be late.”

“Answer me! What do you think you’ll achieve with this?! Go to Mercy right now and stop this silly experiment!”

“I will do no such thing.” She shook her head, making a ‘tsk’ sound full of disbelief. “You did not even make it to the noon kiss and you are already complaining, Fareeha? You’d better get your compliments ready. And no, asking Mercy why she agreed to this game does not count as a personal question.”

I desperately threw my arms up. “Do you have to listen in on everything? Where were you hiding this time?” She is always spying and I never catch her. It’s been like that since I was a child, much to my disadvantage. That’s what you get for having a sneaky sniper as your mother!

“It doesn’t matter,” Ana answered. “I will stop listening when I know you two are telling me the truth about whether or not you properly fulfilled your tasks.”

“Your little game and your tasks are all crazy,” I threw back at her. “She does this to get you off her back – and for no other reason. And you are not doing me a favor with such a fake relationship, either.”

“I’ll wait and see,” she replied sipping her tea with an air of utter relaxation. “Also, it is noon.”

Right on cue, Mercy stepped into the room, still in her lab coat. I looked at her, then at Ana, pleading internally that Mercy would not kiss me right here. Getting a first kiss from Mercy, however fake, while my mother was watching was not exactly what I had fantasized about.

But Mercy did exactly that. She straight-forwardly walked up to me and pecked me on the lips, leaving me in a shocked daze for a moment. Then the realization set in that Mercy had just fleetingly kissed me in full view of my mother.

“You are cute when you blush,” Mercy commented.

“That counts as a compliment,” mum informed us.

\---

Yes, it was a silly little game that Ana had brought up, but I was so weary of fending her off. Pharah and I got along nicely and this was amusing. Pharah was taking this harder than I was, I think – I don’t mind kissing friends on the lips. We did it as teenagers in school all the time, thinking ourselves cool. And having company during the meals and getting away from work for an hour daily? Count me in!

The first day went by splendidly. We had the exchange of more compliments and personal questions over dinner and did not even have to try hard. The conversation developed naturally and I honestly have to say when you are always around the same people, the few comments that you do get are all about something new or different you just did. Hearing about every-day things that someone likes about you was really something nice.

Not like I agreed with everything that Pharah said she liked about me, but I am sure she felt the same when I complimented her meticulous way of taking notes, her technical understanding and how far she had come at such a young age. The latter she threw right back at me – and I cannot really deny that I have advanced my career a little too quickly to be an average person.

“So.. uh… is there a side of the bed you prefer?” Pharah asked awkwardly when she arrived in my room that evening. She had brought a blanket and a pillow from her room. “If you want I can sleep on the floor. I am sure mom is not going to check on--- actually, I am really worried she would.”

I laughed at that. “You will do no such thing. I don’t take up much room. But I do like the side away from the wall.”

Pharah smiled at me. “Fine with me!” She dumped her blanket and pillow on the bed and crawled in first, trying to make herself as small as possible and give me lots of room. I knelt on the bed and just whacked her hip with a pillow. 

“Relax, soldier. This is neutral ground and everyone gets the same share of bed.”

Pharah smiled awkwardly. “It is your bed.”

“Not this week!” I laid down next to her, but even I felt that tinge of awkwardness. Turn towards her? Turn away from her? Really, what had Ana been thinking? Did she think by making us sleep in the same bed, we’d somehow realize that we love doing that and continue for the rest of our lives? I should really administer a test for age-related dementia. This was quite a little over the top. What had gotten into her?

We kind of decided to sleep butt-to-butt (without touching of course) because it was the least awkward when sharing a tiny bed with someone you are not in a relationship with (even if some old weirdo woman tells you that you temporarily are). I set my alarm and wished Pharah a good night, then tried to relax. It’s not like you notice someone next to you when you are asleep, anyway.

\---

How was I supposed to sleep? Of course I first obediently turned towards the wall, minding my own business. I could hear her shift a couple of times, breathe and adjust her blanket. After a few minutes, she was breathing calmly and no longer moving. I carefully turned my head and spied at her. Her back was still towards me and her ribcage was moving gently with her breathing.

I turned around fully, aching to touch her – but of course it would wake her and I’d have no explanation (and would be too nervous to pretend I am doing this in my sleep). I shook those thoughts off. What was I thinking?

I raised my head and looked at her. She looked angelic with her hair down, sprawled about her, and so at peace in her sleep. She must have been dreaming because there was in fact a gentle smile on her lips, and it made me want to melt away. The blanket fell in soft curves over her body, emphasizing her womanly shape. 

Gods, what torture! To be next to the hottest woman on the planet in a pretend relationship, but not being allowed to touch. I forced myself to lay back down on my back. I was staring at the ceiling, brightly awake, fearing I might miss out on so much if I fell asleep. I’d have a couple days of her beside me, breathing calmly, lulled into her dreams which – I guess – were happy today, given her expression. 

She turned in her sleep, nearly making me jump, thinking she had woken. Her face was towards me, her bangs falling over her eye. I could not help but reach out and brush it away so I could see her face. She had stopped smiling and just looked at peace. 

My heart was pounding – I could have watched her all night.

‘Oh Fareeha, your brains are so gone. So gone for that woman… What are you doing? You are 32, your mother is playing tricks on you, and you are basically getting proverbial blue balls for just lying next to Mercy!’ I sighed. ‘I gotta sleep!’ But sleep wouldn’t come for a long time. Only when I started counting Mercy’s breaths, so calm and regular, did I start getting drowsy – only to be woken a few hours later by Mercy’s alarm.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to find my orientation. Mercy was sitting upright; I was still laying down. She looked all disheveled and I instantly remembered how grumpy she seemed to be before breakfast. I thought maybe it was better not to address her.

She looked at me, tired and disoriented, and I was not sure she was actually seeing me. She hit the snooze button and flopped right back down, grumbling something. I could not help but grin. I still disliked my mother for what she had made us do (and I still did not quite comprehend how her little suggestion had actually been successful), but it was true that normally, I would not get to see Mercy like this. She had her face buried in her pillow and was evidently hating her alarm clock for even existing.

If only this had been a true relationship. I have no problem getting up – I could get her coffee and try to make the day start a little better for her. But like this, I felt it was not my place. I could just lay here and wait, unless I wanted to climb over her, which I thought was not a good idea.

Minutes later the alarm went off again (much to Mercy’s dismay). She groaned, pulled herself up and groggily left the room. I was not even so sure she remembered I was there.


	3. Day Two

DAY TWO

At eleven in the morning, a rumpled package arrived. Pharah was kind enough to bring it in – and possibly curious about its contents. As was I. I was not expecting any delivery and the package seemed like it had gone through a lot. 

“I speculate that at least two trucks drove over it,” I mused, looking at it.

“Two trucks in the rain,” Pharah commented. She eyed the package suspiciously. I had just recently complimented her on how careful she was about many things. Now her look was one of cautious concern.

“I don’t like the look of this – it could well be something dangerous,” she concluded.

“Don’t be ridiculous…! Why would anyone send me something threatening?”

“Oh – huh-hum,” Pharah replied. “Famous Overwatch hero, recently re-activated. I cannot possibly imagine!” 

I sighed. I really didn’t believe this was anything but a delayed package of… something I might have forgotten. “What do you suppose we should do?”

“X-ray it!” Pharah suggested. “We have the equipment.”

“The x-ray is for human use. It is not a toy.”

“And I am not going to toy with your life!” She carefully – much more carefully than she had brought it in – grabbed the package and carried it over to the x-ray machine. I laughed at the extreme caution, but I dutifully x-rayed the poor little box and waited for the photo to develop. When the machine finally spit out the result and I examined it against the light source, it looked pretty much like the box was filled with paper. No wires, no gears, no nothing.

“See – it’s all good.” I walked back to the box to pick it up. “Ugh! How did you carry that so easily?” Seriously, the way Pharah had carried that I would never had guessed it was filled with paper to the brim. “Damn, you are strong.” 

Pharah smiled at me. “Now you are a compliment ahead of me.”

I laughed at that. “Well, stacks of papers – how super exciting.” I moved to open the box with a pair of scissors.

“Wait! There could still be poison or so inside!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I shook my head. “I appreciate your caution, but I am starting to realize what this may be.” It was true. I was not just being a neurosurgeon, suit-developer, weapon-engineer and researcher for Overwatch. There were only a small number of experts in our field and it was of much importance to cross-examine each other’s new finding and developments. Occasionally I would get ready-to-publish articles or stacks of data to give my opinion on. Most of them arrived electronically, but some charts still made it to me by post. In many places, patient data from different procedures, spit out by different machines and hand written notes were still very common – and some of my colleagues preferred being able to grasp the data – literally.

I opened the box before Pharah could protest. As predicted, there were thick files inside – but no letter to speak off. Since whatever had hit that package had rendered the sender’s address unreadable, I could merely take guesses at what this was. “Huh.” I picked up the top most file and leafed through it. As predicted, this was some patients’ data. The names were grayed out and replaced with a number

Something began to dawn on me. “Oh no – that can’t be!” I sighed. “I know what this is and it was supposed to arrive weeks ago.”

“Well, what is it?” Pharah asked confusedly.

“The base data for a new procedure, tested on several patients, along with their full files. The equipment for it is supposed to go into production but that requires expert opinion and---“ I stopped in mid-sentence and I lifted the top most sheet to look at the one beneath it. And the one beneath that. The first one had the number “1” replacing the name of the patient, the second the number “5” and the third the number “23”. I frantically leafed through the rest of the file.

“Mercy, is everything okay?”

I snorted. “What happened to this package?! All the patient files are mixed up. There is data from at least thirty different patients in this one folder!” 

Pharah came around to my shoulder and peeked at the file in my hand. “Is it all data from the same --- I don’t know – procedure or something?”

I shook my head. “No. It makes absolutely no sense.” I grabbed the next file from the package and leafed through it. In this file I found a printed letter addressed to me by my colleague, asking me to evaluate the machine and giving me a due date which was two days from then. The letter was dated weeks back and sure meant to be on top of the package.

I began to sweat right then, looking at how densely packed that not-too-small package was. 

“Mercy, do you need to sit down?” Pharah asked me concernedly. My hand was on my mouth as I read.

“I—I need to make a call. I don’t know what happened to this package but it’s been on the road for weeks. And someone must have spilled it and just thrown everything back together without sorting it. I am supposed to have worked through these files and typed up an educated opinion in teo days – but just sorting this will take forever. I have to ask for an extension on the deadline.”

“I am sure they will grant it. It is not your fault and you sure have other things to do. They are asking a favor from you, right? They need to accommodate you, not the other way round.” She sounded hopeful, but it was not that simple. I had taken on an official editing and consulting job in this case and there was a company behind it. Delays usually cost money, whoever is at fault. Even with an extension, I would be pressed to be quick.

“I hope so,” I just agreed.

“I’ll leave you to your call.”

\---

Noon came and went. Mercy was still making calls whenever I passed by her office and her voice was getting increasingly more frantic. Safe to say, the extension on the deadline was not working out too well. I tried to get occupied with other duties (there sure are enough things to do) and just be patient. I just did not dare to disturb her, though around 2:45 pm, she finally emerged from her office, looking concerned.

“I… suppose that did not go well?” I asked.

“No. Not at all. I got a small extension, but on top of everything else that needs to be done in the next few days…” She looked pre-emptively exhausted. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Well…” she looked at the clock on the wall. “I seem to owe you three kisses.”

“Really, if you will be busy, I can ask mom to drop this and—“

“No way I am going to let her have any sort of win in this! Besides – she won’t. You know she won’t.”

I chuckle. “Quite the stubborn old hag,” I replied. 

“Ha. Sounds like that’s where you got that from. You nearly made me check that package for anthrax, after all!”

I smirked at her. “’You are stubborn’ does not count as compliment, you know?”

She smiled back, stepping closer and tilted her head thoughtfully. “How about you have soft lips? Does that count?”

“Uh…” I couldn’t quite help it – I felt my cheeks getting warm. Did she always have to be so damn blunt? Not to mention that she was two compliments ahead of me now.

While I was still trying to cope with what she had just said to me, she pecked me on the lips. “One.”

I kissed her in return, maybe a little more softly than was appropriate. “Two,” I said.

She smiled and gave me a soft kiss on just my lower lip. “Three.” 

The butterflies in my stomach decided to have a party right then and there. She did not have a clue what she was doing to me and I tried my best not to let her see how intrigued I was. Instead, I forced an amused smile and nodded. 

“Not bad.” I pushed myself to change the subject. “I have a personal question for you, actually.” At least that would put me ahead today in the personal question category. “You always work so hard – sometimes until late at night. I admire your dedication,” (ha! Compliment!), “but why are you pushing yourself so much?”

Mercy thought about this for a moment, as if she had never noticed. “I like what I am doing. All of it. But I guess….” She pondered for another moment. “I think I want to accomplish as much as I can. I know how endangered our lives are and even if I should not get killed at any point, I am just a human and have a limited life span. It takes years of learning and experience to reach expertise in any subject and I guess I want to make sure whatever knowledge I have acquired is put to as much use as possible.”

I nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I can see that. I mean – I feel the same when I fly in the Raptora suit. I am an expert in using it so I am trying to be as helpful as I can be by using it as much as I can.”

“Exactly.”

Mercy then returned to her pile of files and all the other tasks she had set out for herself on a normal day. Because we still had to spend an hour together off base, I suggested to just go out for dinner, so we could complete two tasks at once – have that required dinner together and the one hour out. She wouldn’t lose so much time away from her files and we could finish our other daily questions and compliments task. She gladly accepted the offer.

I still ended up going to sleep way before her. For once, I was way more tired than she was, due to spending so much time awake watching her, and for the other, she stayed in her office until late at night. I barely felt her crawl into bed and tried to not think about who she was to me, so I could continue sleeping and not wake up enough to end up wanting to watch her all night again. It worked, though I woke in the early morning hours and found myself staring again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dear readers, this day is a prelude ... things might get a little more intense starting tomorrow...]


	4. Day Three

DAY THREE

It took me two cups of coffees that morning to turn from morning monster to human being. I still don’t know how anyone can stand me in the mornings, but Pharah always took my grumpy with much dignity.

“I have so much work to do,” I complained already stressed at the thought of it. 

“I am sorry. I would help you, but I am supposed to do a few test flights with Winston and Mei checking the data on the suit,” Pharah looked at me with honest regret. I appreciated it, but my work load should not be her concern anyway.

“It’s okay. Just- if you could help me fulfill those tasks… stop by at noon, maybe find something for dinner and remind me about coming up with questions and compliments before it is midnight, that would be tremendously helpful.” I knew I would forget time, but I was not going to lose at Ana’s game!

“Sure!” Pharah replied. “Tell me a compliment right now!” she grinned at me.

“Easy. You look adorable all curled up when you are asleep. I should be late for bed more often.”

Pharah laughed and blushed a little at that. “No, you should get decent sleep. And I am amazed by how quickly you catch yourself after a cup of coffee or two when you are so super grumpy in the mornings. Kudos for not letting it cling to you.” She reached into the butt pocked of her pants and pulled out a pen and a crumpled piece of paper. There, in her little, neat handwriting, she had listed our tasks with enough room to the side to add some checkmarks.

“Let’s see. Compliment from Mercy – check. Compliment from Pharah – check.”

“Very accurate.”

“How about a personal question?” she suggested, her pen already above the appropriate area to place a check mark.

\---

The day went by smoothly. I stopped by at Mercy’s office at noon. She was engulfed in trying to find all the papers for patient number five from the stack of unsorted files. She must have been at this the day before and that she is only now reaching patient five of at least thirty was a bit dismaying to see. She was not going to come to bed before midnight tonight, either, and I knew I was going to feel guilty for getting more sleep than she did. 

I withdrew a compliment and a personal question from her and gave my own, placing the more checkmarks on my paper. After that, I left her to her work and suggested we handle dinner like we had the day before. She was fine with that, apparently mostly because then she would not have to think about how to handle dinner, our one hour out and her workload. I was fine with that, too.

Later that day, I sat on the sofa with my still very unfulfilled list, contemplating potential compliments and questions. Perchance, my mother walked by for her afternoon tea. There was a tinge of frustration in my bones as I was contemplating a potential question thirteen. If I was already struggling at thirteen, how was I going to fourty-five of those? 

“What am I supposed to do with this…!” I grumbled.

“I thought you were smarter than that, Fareeha,” mom said in her endlessly point-blank way. “I gave you such an opportunity. Make use of it.”

What did she mean this time?! There were tasks to fulfill, we were fulfilling them – there was not that much wriggle room. And with Mercy being so busy, it was not like she could linger after breakfast or dinner, even if she wanted to.

I looked at my sheet. And my checkmarks. 

Maybe she would be busy for a couple of days… but technically, not fulfilling the tasks would just postpone our fake relationship by one day – to a time when she was less busy. 

All that needed to happen for that was to not complete one of the tasks. And at this time, she had asked me to take care of our schedule… The whole game was completely in my hands, handed to me on a silver platter.

I pocketed my cheat-sheet and leaned back, contemplating. Could I really do that? Which task would I leave open? One of hers or one of mine? Would she notice? Would she mind? My mother handed me a cup of tea quietly, while I looked far off into the distance.

All I had to do was to make us share four questions, or four compliments… and then just wait until midnight not doing anything. Doing nothing is much easier than actively doing something. We’d both be a task or two behind in the end… 

I decidedly got up and visited Mercy to extract a third compliment and a third personal question from her and then return my own. I would do the fourth round during dinner… and then I would do nothing at all. She would either come herself and take care of my lapse, or we’d both have forgotten about it and be equally guilty.

...I was so wrong about that.

\---

There was really nothing I could do, except for some really unhealthy things, to keep from nodding off over my paper work. I made it to patient eighteen, but I could not keep awake anymore. I groggily got up from my desk and rubbed my eyes. Pharah was probably long since asleep. My neck and back were aching from being bent over the desk for so long. 

Outside, everything was silent. Everyone had gone to sleep. With a look at the clock I realized with a bit of alarm that it was almost three in the morning. I had not noticed how time had passed me by – no wonder I was so tired. I quickly got myself ready for bed and I really could not have cared less who was in it as long as there was room for me to fall asleep. And there was – I don’t know how Pharah managed when being alone in my bed and having all the room for herself, but she never moved away from her spot. I wondered whether as a child she might often have crawled into Ana’s bed. What a cute image. Ana, despite her never-ending sarcasm and lack of interest in wrapping her words in flowery language, had always been a rather sweet mother with Fareeha, from what I had seen. I could see them sharing evening cuddles.

I think I fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow. If only it was not for that pesky alarm clock jerking me awake in the morning! I felt endlessly tired that day and I probably looked the part. Pharah tended to get up after me. It seemed she had changed her schedule a little to accommodate my morning routine, so that she ended up going jogging some time after breakfast instead of before. I just hoped having eaten did not make her feel sick while running about. 

Little did I know that I was in for a surprise the next day that would make me rethink how sorry I might feel for her changed schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh, Pharah. I don't think that was what Ana meant when saying she is giving you 'opportunities'...!
> 
> (Heads up: Chapters will start getting a whole lot longer from here on!)


	5. Day Four

DAY FOUR

Since we _had_ to have breakfast together, I stared into my half-empty coffee cup for a while, too tired to even drink, until she appeared in the kitchen. I vaguely noticed a bowl of cereal appearing before me and I simply stared at that instead of the coffee. It took me endless moments to pick up the spoon and start eating and I think I yawned some tears. Poor Pharah did not even dare to address me.

We were joined by Ana in the kitchen. “Did you fulfill your tasks yesterday?” she asked like a teacher demanding her pupil’s homework. “You know I won’t stop spying on you until I know you are telling the truth.”

I groggily glanced over at Pharah. We had done all of that, right? One set of one question and one compliment for each at breakfast, one at noon, one in the afternoon, one for dinner… wait… that was four. I tried to desperately remember when we had gotten the fifth round in. It must have been some time after dinner. I returned to my work… and then…? Had I seen Pharah before bed?

Pharah did not say anything and I start waking up a little more. I looked at her… she looked back for a moment, but immediately averted her eyes.

“Wha’?” I mumbled, still not quite there.

“Mum… we didn’t… I think,” Pharah replied. I tried to shake my head clear and sipped some more coffee to help the process.

“But—we did- -- right?” I tried to remember. “You said you’d make sure…” I had put her in charge and I am beginning to realize that I may have kind of lost a round of Ana’s game doing so. 

“I am sorry, Mercy. I think I forgot after dinner…” 

I glanced over at Ana. She was not really buying it, and neither was I. Pharah has always been a terrible liar and mothers tend to know. 

“Pharah, I had put you in charge…!” I accused her. 

“I know,” she bit her lower lip on a giant guilt trip. I was trying to process this then – Pharah with her list and her need to fulfill all her duties to a T forgot to complete the list in time? No way.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Give me your list,” I demanded, holding out my hand.

“Mercy, I just forgot. I am sorry – I know you did not want to lose, but I guess we both did not pay attention and it’s just a game and it just means another day-!”

No, it meant triumph for Ana, however small. And I had claimed we would easily thwart her little game – not that the joke would be on me! I insistently held out my hand and Pharah reluctantly reached into her pocket to pulled out that folded sheet of paper. I unfolded it. There were four checkmarks behind every task and one checkmark for the noon kiss. But where the fifth checkmark should have been, she had put an empty circle.

“You did this on purpose,” I snapped, incredulous. Well, that just made my morning, didn’t it? Here I was trapped in Ana’s stupid game and the person who I thought was in the same boat deceived me. Was this all some silly scheme just to mess with me? I crumpled the paper in my hand and threw it onto the table, even though being just a piece of paper it did not quite have the impact I wanted.

“Mercy-“

“No! I don’t want to hear it.” I got up, my cereal unfinished, and grabbed my half-filled coffee mug. “I asked one thing of you because I am loaded with work – and you know not letting her” I pointed at Ana “win this stupid game had some significance to me. Thank you so much!”

“Mercy, just let me-“

_“Nein!”_

As I left the kitchen, I heard Ana’s calm voice – but she spoke loud enough to make sure I heard. “If you don’t fulfill your tasks today, you’ll get another additional day. You know that, right?”

“Mum!” Pharah’s voice was pleading with Ana to not make it worse. But it did not matter – it had not been Ana who had shamelessly abused the stress I was under.

\---

I knocked on the door to Mercy’s office. All morning I had dreaded noon, but now here it was. I had no idea how pissed Mercy was with me or whether she even wanted to continue today. But I was also afraid if I failed her again, she would think it was on purpose again and get even more angry. What a dilemma.

I had made a huge mistake. In the kitchen, mom had berated me as a ‘silly child’ for pulling that trick on Mercy. Apparently tweaking the game had not been what she had hoped I would do. First and foremost, I was ashamed I had taken the bait to try and make something of this ‘opportunity’. What should have been important to me was what Mercy wanted and she wanted to not fail at this and prove mum that she was wrong about us. But it was all so confusing because mom was not exactly wrong about me. Mom wanted me to confess to Mercy which I certainly did not want to do – and Mercy thought, I shared her lack of interest in a relationship between us - which was not true. 

I felt so miserable. I should never have let this silly game happen and I certainly should not have messed with it. I kept my head down when she told me to enter, not knowing it was me.

She saw me and snorted. I probably deserved that.

“Sorry. I just didn’t know whether you wanted to continue.” I prepared for the worst. She would yell at me how I could even think about following up on that stupid game under the current circumstances.

“It’s not going to end otherwise,” she replied coldly, and it was like a sting to my heart.

“We --- can just claim we did… everything,” I offered. “I think… after being honest about yesterday, mom is no longer spying on us.” I just wanted to leave. Mercy looked seriously angry.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she replied. She briskly walked over and smacked my lips so hard with hers, it hurt. 

“So. Five compliments,” she snapped. She looked at me, checking me out with such disdain, I had to swallow hard to keep myself together. But there was worse to come.  
“You don’t thrash around in your sleep – so that’s a plus,” she said harshly, her blue eyes staring at me coldly. I nodded and waited for her to continue. Whatever she was going to throw at me, I probably deserved that. “You don’t make noises while you eat. I give you that.” 

I nodded, but my skin was crawling all over. She was throwing all of her anger at me with the tone of her voice and I could tell she had put this list together long before I had walked in here, probably with the intention of letting me feel her anger. And it worked so much better than she knew. Being yelled down by a friend – especially when they have a certain right to be angry - is harsh. But I did have much stronger feelings for that woman and she was crushing my heart to pieces. 

“You are well proportioned I suppose.” Well, at least all of these were non-compliments and not a veiled insults.

“Okay…” I replied, not knowing was else to say.

“You can be as sneaky as your mother, which certainly is annoying, but a skill to be acknowledged.” That one hurt deeply. Mum was sneaky in a very literal sense. She could go almost anywhere without being detected. But Mercy was using the word to describe me in a whole different sense. Backstabbing. _Malicious._ Was that truly what she thought of me? 

I stood frozen, unable to move and let her hate rain down on me. 

“And finally,” and I was sure this was going to be her final blow. “You have well-developed skeletal muscles.” 

I closed my eyes, accepting the pain of the insult. The most prominent muscle that is not skeletal… is the heart. She knew exactly what she was saying and so did I. It hurt badly. And all over a silly game I should not have ever allowed to start.

“Are you done…?” I asked quietly, unable to hide my pain. It seemed she did not care what she was doing to me, though.

“Oh no, I still have five questions to ask which you have to answer honestly.”

_Please, no._

“So, did you enjoy abusing the stress I had – still have?”

“No. I am sorry. I really am.” My voice was beginning to falter. All I did was not remind us to do four silly little tasks. Why was she this angry and this cold to me? Sure I had betrayed her, but it was a _game_. Maybe I should have yelled at her for taking it so seriously, but I was too hurt to do much but let her throw all her frustration at me.

“Do you enjoy this game?” she followed up with the next question.

“No. Certainly not right now,” I replied meekly, my shoulders curling towards my chest. I could no longer look at her and stared at the floor, scolded like a school child. I just wanted this to be over. Three more questions. I could do that, right?

“How did you feel the first time you blew someone to pieces?” she asked coldly.

I sucked in a sharp breath. I should have retaliated against how coldly she treated such a severe and truly personal question, but I could not. I just desperately wanted her to not hate me and was at a complete loss about how to go about it. “It’s… difficult to describe.” All I had were honest answers. “The person I killed was a terrible human being who would have caused much… much misery if they had stayed alive. I was first of all relieved my mission was a success and my team was unhurt. But if you want to know – think – assume…that I was happy. I was not. No. There was a very bitter aftertaste.”

I wanted to look up and see her reaction. Her wording and tone had offered an expectation as to what my answer would be. I had not fulfilled that. Had that maybe appeased her some? But I could not. I did not want to see those blue eyes coldly staring at me.

“How did you feel the first time I took the time to heal you?” 

I did not know what she was trying to accomplish with that. Tell me that she was endlessly kind to consider healing scum like me? Remind me that I need her out there on the battlefield?

“Very… grateful. Very… relieved…” I pushed out, but my voice was shivering. One more question. One more and I could turn and leave.

“Did you plot this game together with Ana, and if so, to what end?” There it was. All her anger. She thought it was not us who had been played, but only she – and it made her furious.

“No!” And this time I did look up, bore those eyes that conveyed exactly the hatred I had expected in them. “Please believe me, Mercy!” I could not tell her why my mom was playing me, especially not with her looking at me like that. So all I could do was plead. “I had nothing to do with that, I swear!”

He jaw was grinding, her nostrils wide in anger. I had no chance of getting through to her when she was this worked up. I may have desperately wished I could, but I would be foolish not to know when the battle is lost. Hopefully the war wasn’t lost yet, though.

“We’ll spend an hour at the beach today at 3pm. Bring a book because I will not be your entertainment.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Why did I let her do that to me? I should have said no, not with you treating me like that… but I could not. Maybe I thought I partially deserved that. Maybe I still loved her too much – so I still wanted to sit silently at the beach with her, even if she hated me – just so I could wish she’d care for me.

I left the room, barely holding on to myself. And I did not know where to go and found myself stumbling to mom’s little place on the south side of the base. She opened the door as I knocked.

“Yes, Fareeha?”

I look at her – she might have instigated all of this – but she is still my mommy.

“She hates me,” I said and the tears came flooding. “Why did you do this to me, mum? She hates me… she hates me!” 

Mum pulled me into her arms. “You silly little child,” she said soothingly. “You actually believe you can’t mend this.”

\---

I waited outdoors, silently, until Pharah appeared. She greeted me, but I really did not feel like returning any greeting. I had barely slept, I could only think of the piles upon piles of work on my desk and the deadlines looming above my head and now I was forced to take my work to the beach for no other reason than to appease a crazy old woman, so she’d make my life less of a strain.

But that was not the worst. For a fleeting moment I had once had the feeling that Pharah and I were in something together and I am usually all for such fun. Maybe, under different circumstances, I would have laughed about not fulfilling the tasks that day. But it was the betrayal that hurt – I had trusted her to help me, she had abused it. And from thereon I was not so sure whether I was in a game with Pharah or in a game against Pharah and Ana. And it hurt to be betrayed like that on a day, where I was up to my nose in stress and could have used extra support, not extra burden. 

Pharah followed behind me to the beach. She had brought a few more things than I had, I had merely grabbed my files and a towel to sit on. So I dropped into the sand and opened my files, but concentration was failing me right away. The sun was too bright on the white sheet of paper and Pharah’s presence agitated me.

What I had not counted on was that Pharah would bring an umbrella to shield my light skin from the sun. She put it up silently so the shadow fell onto me, while she herself sat in the sun. I did not know how to react to that, so I did not. 

“Sorry… Mercy. I know you want to fulfill those tasks today. So I just wanted to get my share out so you don’t have to spend another extra day with me.”

“Listening,” I just replied, pretending to still be looking at my research even though I couldn’t really concentrate on that.

“So. Compliments,” Pharah said. She looked out at the see as she spoke. “Even when you are stressed, you are completely organized. I have never heard of you missing a deadline or not fulfilling expectations. It is really impressive.”

I stayed silent. She might have thought too highly of me there. I have failed at saving patients – and that surely means I failed expectations. 

“I- I hope this counts as a compliment, but I am glad that even when you are just a little upset – not as much as now – I can tell.” I glanced over at her - just briefly. She was letting sand run through her fingers and there was a little sad smile in the corner of her lips. “You … there is a tiny red spot that appears on your nose- Very tiny… you have to pay close attention. And that’s when I know to distract you or say something to make you feel better.” There was a pause then and that smirk faded. “Of course not when I already totally blew it.”

I realized I had watched her and turned my head away. I had not meant to – she did not need to believe I had forgiven her.

“Third compliment. Because of what you asked earlier. When you first healed me, I was pretty far away from each other and it required you to get airborne. I did not think you would do that, even though you have done that so often since. But that first time, I did not expect it. You came to me, made me feel so much better, and soared right back down to heal the others – in time to make sure no one got seriously injured. It was when I realized that you had not only made an awesome suit to make that possible, but what kind of master you were at piloting it and how lucky we were to have you.”

I took a deep breath. I knew what she was trying to do – show me she had put effort into these thoughts – show me she was not just looking at my exterior qualities. Butter my up, or something. I could not bring myself to allow it, even though I had to fight my inner turmoil to be able to stay angry.

“Also, I heard you were treating a lot of orphans in the Middle East for free when Overwatch was recalled. Your good heart is admirable.”

At least I could disagree with that. Anyone who lets an orphan suffer is a terrible human being, after all. It’s only natural to want to help.

“And fifth – you don’t give up. You did not even give up on winning this game, even though I made you this angry. You don’t give up on the most hopeless cases you treat and give everything until the very end. I have a very deep respect for the power you can call up to be able to do these things.”

I played with the edge of the paper to distract myself. I did not want Pharah to get to me because that would have meant letting her off easily and she just did not deserve that.

“Now. Questions. I tried to make them so that you don’t have to say much, but if you want, you can.”

I cleared my throat to indicate that I was ready to do so. 

“I have spare questions, if there is one you don’t want to answer, too.”

I just waited.

“Okay…” she took a deep breath then. “What… did it feel like when you first lost someone as a surgeon?”

I honestly did not expect her to go that deep. I thought she’d let me off easy – ask light-weight questions where the answers did not even matter. Instead, she dug right for my heart. Every doctor remembers the first patient they lost, and I am no exception. When you are young – or even when you are older – you want to save every life, and you do everything up to the point where you are so exhausted that you can barely stand. And sometimes… it turns out not to be enough.

“Like a failure who was responsible for her death,” I said briefly. I did not want to call up the images, even though they still haunted me sometimes.

“Thanks for answering. How did you feel when you first saved a life that was near impossible to save?”

I took a deep breath. It was the stark opposite of the previous question, but I was too tired and exhausted to get too emotional now, as I was thinking back on that day. But that also was the problem… because I had felt exactly like that when it had become clear that the patient would survive, despite the odds, - tired and exhsusted. With one key difference – I had also been happy about it. This was too reminiscent and I did not want to dwell on that feeling.

“I felt exhausted, emotionally too drained to feel much… but somewhere deep inside, I was so relieved.” 

I noticed the moment of her nod from the corner of her eyes. She did not comment on it though and just continued. 

“Do you prefer being a surgeon, an engineer of helpful technologies or supporting those in need on the battlefield?”

That one was easy: “All of it.”

“What is important to you in a relationship?” 

This time I looked at her, still feeling hurt. “Honesty and trust.”

I saw a twitch in her body there – she knew exactly that she had failed me in these two aspects.

Before she gave me the fifth question, there was a pause in which I listened to the waves lap against the shore. 

“On a scale of one to ten… how mad are you at me right now?” 

She had hurt me, I was too tired to really work out how to deal with this, so I decided to just stay angry. But I would have been lying to myself if I had claimed not to notice she was putting effort in making things right. 

“7.4.”

“Okay. Thanks. … I’ll leave you to your stuff now. And… I’ll bring dinner to your office so you can keep working.”

With that, she laid down on the sand and watched the seagulls. I did not have to say anything else and could finally read a little more of my work. She alerted me when the hour was done and let me go ahead while she packed everything up. 

I went back to work, let her sit in the office while eating dinner and managed to work my way to patient 24.


	6. Day Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Note: This fic was written before the OW Christmas cartoon where arguably, Pharah might be seen with her father. I did not know she was connected to him at the time of writing.]

DAY FIVE

It had not worked. The night next to Mercy was awkward. This time she was not late for sleep because she already looked like a zombie – so very exhausted. She probably could not concentrate any longer and decided to get some rest. She was in bed so quickly, I had to climb over her to get to my spot – which did not work without bumping into her a little, for which I apologized a million times.

She was just grumbling something in her tired state, turned her back to me and went to sleep. She was still angry – barely conscious, but still decidedly angry. I sighed – I felt so miserable. I had tried, but to no avail. And I was not sure I could stand getting non-compliments again, angry heart-stabbing questions and a total lack of reaction to everything I tried to appease her. Would I have to go through this until the end of the week?

No… if it had to be this cruel… maybe at least I could soften the blow. I waited until she was asleep and got out of bed. Mercy never gave up, either - and mum said I could mend this. Maybe it was a mistake to believe whatever mum said, but there are times when anyone is ready to cling at any straw. I had to win Mercy back somehow – pull her on my good side – or at least make her a little kinder to me.

I stayed up for hours getting everything ready, then stuck my phone on vibrate alarm into my bra and went to sleep for another hour – if only to fulfill the ‘sleep in the same bed’ requirement. My alarm woke me an hour before Mercy’s alarm would go off, but it was barely enough time to bake those breakfast rolls that Mercy and Reinhardt always talked about – and to make coffee. 

When she came into the kitchen all groggy, I quietly served her and was extremely relieved when she could not resist the offer. Once she was out of her morning grumpy state, she even managed to thank me. I kept quiet, not wanting to say anythinh (and potentially somethingbthst would make her more angry) until she was done eating. 

She looked a little better this morning – still tired and overworked, but better. She moved to get up, but I placed a gentle hand on her arm and sat down at an angle to her. “Please stay for just a moment.”

She was appeased enough to grant me my wish. I pulled out a sheet from my pocket and unfolded it.

“I know you are very busy right now – and I am sorry it is taking such a toll on you and that I added to the burden. So—I thought that if I filled out all the tasks ahead of time and only the kiss and our hour out and our dinner are left, you’ll have a bit of an easier time to get your work done.” I handed her the sheet of paper. “Here are questions you could technically ask me that I already filled out, my compliments for you and compliments that – before this game – you have said to me. I think that counts. All you have to do is tell me – or fill out – the answers to the personal questions that I have given you.”

I folded the paper again and put it into her hands.

“And… tonight before dinner, I will pick you up and take you to that spa you like. I will sit down in the restaurant inside the building while you go relax. This way we are technically out together but you can have your peace and quiet. I think it will fulfill the requirements. I’ll have some food ready to take home when you get out.”

She looked at the paper and breathed in to speak, but I didn’t let her. I was too scared of her answer – or rather the potential tone of it.

“No – please don’t say anything. Take this with you to your office, think about it. I will leave you alone until noon.” 

With that, I got up and left her alone – mostly to get some sleep until noon. I was dead tired. 

\---

When I got to my office, I was in for another surprise. All my remaining files for that evaluation had been sorted. I knew it must have taken hours, especially for someone not familiar with the matter - someone who first had to check the other files for the correct order and try to understand it.

There was no doubt that this had to be Pharah’s work. She could barely have slept – and it was such an unbelievable burden off my shoulders. I still had to do all the evaluations and write my notes on it, but at least the brainless, hour-eating work of sorting was completely done. 

I sat down, almost ready to cry with relief because it was the task that was hindering me most and that I had begun to hate with a passion. Pharah had been trying hard - extra hard - to make me forgive her.

And since I was not so pressed for time so much anymore – though my schedule was still tight – I unfolded the paper Pharah had given me and start reading.

_Compliments from Mercy to Pharah_  
_1\. You have seriously good aim, even though your rockets don’t require that._  
_2\. I like how you get along with Ana, despite everything that happened between you._  
_3\. I am impressed by how well you understand, maintain and pilot your Raptora suit. It seems to mean a lot to you and that is part of what makes you such an asset on the battlefield._  
_4\. You make really yummy Baba Ghanoush._  
_5\. Your handwriting is so neat._

I could not deny that these were all things I had said to her before on different occasions. Maybe those were not the exact words, but I was impressed that Pharah cared enough to remember. 

The next page held the compliments directed to me – from Pharah.

_1\. You sometimes smile when you are asleep. I like it._  
_2\. You are the peace-loving counterpart this team needs for balance. Thank you._  
_3\. Despite this love for peace, you still fight with us – because you care and you see the bigger picture. It takes a special kind of strength and understanding to do that, which is admirable._  
_4\. You have a great ability to read the moods of people. It makes you both a better doctor and a great friend._  
_5\. Your intelligence is both intriguing and intimidating._

I couldn’t help but smile a little. Such kind words, even though I had treated her so badly the day before. I sure did not deserve that. 

I turned the page to find the questions that Pharah had written down and answered for herself, so that I did not have to come up with anything.

_1\. Do I think I have ever been truly in love? – Yes. I am sure._  
_2\. Do I miss my father? – No. Not really. I have seen a picture of him and know some details – but looking at that picture, I feel no connection, so I guess I cannot really miss him._  
_3\. Do I want a family? – I think in the future, I want to. But that feeling is always ‘in the future’ and sometimes I wonder whether it will ever even change to ‘now’._  
_4\. Am I angry with mom for disappearing on all of us? – No. I was, but we sorted things out and I understand. And even though she is driving us insane right now, I am so happy I am granted more time with her._  
_5\. Am I sorry for trying to rig the game and betray you? – Yes. I should not have done that. I do not have an adequate apology. I have an explanation at best. I liked being forced to be around you – learning more about you, sharing meals with you. I wanted more of that. But suddenly you had become busy and I thought I could postpone things a little to give us more, happier times. I achieved much of the opposite – I upset you enough to withdraw from me and in retrospect I think if I wanted to spend more time with you, I could have found a way outside of the game to do so. I am truly and deeply sorry._

It was honestly touching. She had asked herself better questions than I could have come up with, and partially she was still trying to apologize. I smoothed the page to read it over again – she was giving a lot of herself away. Maybe that, too, was an apology.

Eventually I turned to the last page – the questions she had noted down directed at me.  
_1\. Do you want to have a family?_  
_2\. Where in the world do you feel at home?_  
_3\. What would an ideal world look like to you?_  
_4 Why did you become a doctor?_  
_5\. Did you ever consider not answering Winston’s recall?_

I grabbed a pen and decided to answer these questions with as much thought and care as Pharah had answered hers. My handwriting was not nearly as neat as hers, but I tried my best to not let the doctor hang out and make my notes readable instead.

_1\. Much like you, I do one day. Sometimes I think that maybe my life is not compatible with a family, but after meeting Ana, I cannot argue that anymore, can I?_  
_2\. I want to answer Kuwait, because I spent a lot of time there and met great people. I certainly do not feel at home in Switzerland anymore. But the truth is… I am at home here, with all of you. I am home where my family is._  
_3\. Peaceful that is for certain. Fair and healthy would be other aspects I really care for. It’s a utopic dream but if we can get closer to that, I will be happy._  
_4\. There are so many reasons. I wanted to help so children would not have to lose their parents so easily, like I did. I was wrong about that – children still lose their parents easily in our world. I knew I was intelligent enough to tackle a difficult subject like medicine. I was given a scholarship and I did not want to waste it on a subject that did not have a potential to make a huge difference in the world. And I also wanted to build, not destroy._  
_5\. Depends on what you are asking. Did I ever consider not going back and fighting with everyone? Yes, I did. But I would at least have let Winston know and apologized and explained my reasons. I would never have let people think I am gone or forgot about them, when I always held them so very dear._

I looked at the empty bottom of the page for a moment, thinking. I took me a while, but then I added:

_Please come to the spa with me, Pharah._

When Pharah arrived at my office at noon, she looked like she only just got up to collect her mandatory kiss. I kissed her gently as a first indication that I had come to my senses and was not angry at her anymore. Then I returned her paper work to her. By that time, I had made significant progress with my work and my files, thanks to the help she had secretly given me. I let her know what a great favor it was and I could read relief in her expression.

She smiled, picking up on my much friendlier tone, thanked me for filling out the questions and left my office. She did not read my replies in my presence, but when she picked me up for the spa later that day, she had a bag with her things with her so we could enjoy some relaxation together.

And we did. And I needed that so badly after all the work I had done. And we started talking again like friends should and laughed together. It felt way better than being annoyed with her.

\---


	7. Day Six

DAY SIX

Sleeping next to Mercy that night is far less painful than the previous night. I could motivate her to drop her work, even though she was not finished. We had kept our activities outside of the base short for her to be able to continue a little longer, but she looked more and more tired and unconcentrated and I just couldn’t watch her torture herself anymore. It was also getting really late and maybe a selfish part of me wanted to fall asleep with her. I had finally gotten over wanting to stare at her all night, after all.

Originally, she wanted to continue - she was almost done, but appealing to her sense of responsibility for her own health made her understand that if she continued the next day she would still make her deadline - and likely faster because she’d be more concentrated and motivated. What followed then was a pleasant few moments in bed: We had still one personal question open each and I used it to follow up on a bit of the conversation we had had over the dinner that Mercy had invited me to in apology for how she had treated me. We had been talking about traveling on earth overcthe food, but as we lay in bed I asked her what planet she'd go to if she could. She could not decide other than it was probably one of the few potentially earth-like planets that had been discovered far, far away from us. Soon, we found ourselves turned towards each other, talking about how breathtakingly large the universe is.

However, when I told her about watching stars and clouds with mum when I was a child, she started drifting off, too tired to stay awake. Even after she had fallen asleep, I kept on talking to make sure she would be well-soothed by my voice. I slowly trailed off and tried to relax my body to sleep as well. This night sure beat sleeping back to back with her, or staying up - too absorbed in watching her to sleep properly -, laying with her angry beside me or trying to crawl over her without bumping into her.

When we awoke the next morning, she was her grumpy morning self again and still very tired, but looking a little better than the previous days. After her morning coffee we spent some time on our tasks as personal questions had come to both of us prompted by last night’s little conversation about our world views. Compliments came just as easily and I honestly wondered why I had been so worried about coming up with enough compliments to fulfill the tasks every day. I could think of so many more during this breakfast after I had gotten to know Mercy so much better at the spa and in bed last night.

“Do you think you will get done writing that evaluation today?”

“I am decisively planning to work as hard as I can.”

“You still look tired. I wished I could help, but I have just gotten updates for the Raptora suit.”

Mercy smiled at me. “I know you can’t wait to get your suit up to date and test it. I would never stop you. And I will be fine on my own, thanks to your help with sorting the files. We’ll both be pleasantly busy.”

And she should be right. In fact, noon passed us and while I was very aware of what time it was and peeked into her office, I had the distinct feeling that she was typing away so concentratedly - it would not have been good to disturb her. Plus - the penalty for missing kisses was not too bad (just more kisses - and who was I to complain about that?), as long as we still got the kisses in today - and I would make sure of that. I would not let Mercy fail our tasks again. I sure had learned my lesson in that respect and I was still so relieved I had managed to mend things between us.

\---

The utter gratitude towards the entire universe that I felt when I pushed the “send” button could hardly be described. To have such a work load off my back was a relief that was immediately greeted by total fatigue. It was not like I didn’t have anything else to do - stuff with less priority had piled up, but I did feel very much accomplished and in need of a deserved break.

I leaned back against the chair and took a long breath. It was not only that I had finished the evaluation of patient data for a new procedure by working my way through 32 patient files - whenever I get engrossed in such a task it occupies me day and night: In the shower, while I am eating, in bed and so on. This time, Pharah had been my distraction - she had taken my mind off things during meals and even when going to sleep. I was not used to my mind not being fully occupied with the most pressing job at hand and I could not help but admit that it was pleasant to have a bit of down time. The daily hour away from everything and the interspersed compliment-and-question-sessions that Pharah meticulously and reliably kept track off since our little … incident... were so pleasant.

“You either have just had a heart attack or an epiphany,” Pharah commented as she came in with tea that undoubtedly her mother had made - it came in pink grandma cups and smelled like Ana’s favorite. She put one on my desk.

“I am done!” I announced with such relief. And I was done. So very done. Every bone in my body was aching.

“Congrats,” Pharah smiled at me. “You still look like you ran a marathon, though. But - you know - like someone who is still good-looking after a marathon.”

“I am so not counting that as a compliment,” I laughed. “I know I look like I got even less sleep than I did.”

“How about you take a nap?” Pharah asked then. “You sure deserve one and you’d have your bed for yourself for a change, since I am only required to be there at night.”

It did not make a difference if she was there or not, but a nap sounded _so_ tempting. There was other work to consider, however. “I fear I would never get up until tomorrow morning. And it’s only three in the afternoon now.”

Pharah contemplated me for a long moment, her mind working. In retrospect, she might have thought whether or not this was a good time to remind me that we were three kisses overdue since noon, but evidently, she decided against it. My mind was occupied with all sorts of tasks and the tempting offer of a nap - I did not realize that I had worked through noon and beyond and missed out on something. 

“How about you go to sleep, I run some errands that I need to run, and I will wake you for dinner, so you don’t sleep all day?” Pharah offered. 

“You spoil me. You have taken care of us getting dinner so much and I have contributed next to nothing.”

Pharah smiled. “That's not true. And you’ve also been way more busy. It’s alright with me. Besides… my mother kind of put us into this... web of responsibilities towards each other. I think I have a reason to feel a little guilty.

“Phh.. you are not your mother…. Well, not always.” A yawn crept up inside of me and I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. It would take me some days to get back onto a decent sleep-wake-schedule because of this. Evidently, I was getting too old to pull night shifts or something.

“Mercy. Go to bed. I can’t watch your eyes get any redder,” Pharah insisted and I was way too weak to resist such temptation.

“Ooookay,” I gave in and got up to retreat to my room. “Just for a little.”

\---

It took me over three hours to run out, buy ingredients and cook. As I was rolling the specially seasoned rice into grape leaves, mom came into the kitchen and peeked into my pot.

“You are finally doing something right,” she announced satisfiedly. I had no idea whether she meant my cooking or the way I dealt with Mercy. I had so far been very bad at either. I had learned a lot in the past couple of days and for this particular case, I had printed out very detailed instructions on how to make _Maḥshi wara' ‘enab_ that even a total idiot could understand. 

Mom sniffed at the rice and crinkled her nose. “Good enough for what you can get here,” she decided.

“What?” I snorted with frustration. “What did I do wrong now?”

She took a look at the recipe. “If only you could read Arabic a little better and hadn’t forgotten everything I taught you, you could have gotten a more decent recipe.”

“Hey. I am not that bad.”

“Oh, really?” She answered, completely unimpressed.

 _“You’re an annoying old hag,”_ I said in Arabic and she whacked the back of my head, making me laugh as I was trying to avoid it.

“I should rethink the influence Mercy has on you, child!” 

“I was going to give you some, but now I have to rethink that idea.”

Mum blatantly got herself a plate and fished out two of the leaves that were already done cooking. She just walked away with her plate and wished me a good dinner. I shook my head, amused. Maybe I should have made a lot more of that dish. Chances were by the time I had woken Mercy, the ever-hungry Overwatch members would have plundered my pot. But I had not been too confident about what I would end up producing to just cook for everyone. It would also have been infinitely more work and I had intentions to eat dinner with Mercy before midnight. 

A warning sign on the pot to not touch my food would hopefully be enough. I slipped out of the apron I had been wearing while cooking and washed and dried my hands. I then proceeded over to Mercy’s room to wake her, hoping she would not nearly be as grumpy being woken in the afternoon as she was in the mornings.

I snuck into the room where she was laying on her side, peacefully curled up. I almost dreaded waking her from that, but I had promised. At least I could make it more pleasant than an alarm clock - and I had food for bribery. I sat on the bed and gently started caressing her shoulder. 

“Angela?”

She stirred sleepily and groaned with heavy tiredness. 

“Sorry. I promised to wake you, right?”

She nodded, yawned and stretched a hand over her head. “Uhh... that was good,” she declared - no sign of any grumpiness. “What time is it?”

“Hm… seven. So, roughly eight kisses overdue.”

She stretched, curling her back and raising her arms over her head. It was adorable. A kitten waking up could not have been any cuter. “I forgot…!” she realized. 

“I did not, but I thought it was not good to disturb you while you were working so intensely. And then you looked so fatigued, I did not have the heart to throw another task at you.” That was partially true. Another huge part was that I wanted more kisses from her. The day after tomorrow would be our last day - and we only had that extra day because we had failed the task once, followed by a major relationship meltdown. Actually, that had been a pretty impressive fight for a fake relationship. And a painful one. But that was past and there was no point dwelling on the memory. Ultimately, Mercy and I got along way better now.

“Well then, Miss Amari - do your mother-given duty and give me eight kisses,” Mercy commanded with a smile.

I chuckled, but my heart gave a little flutter. Eight kisses. That was our record. 

“Okay. But no biting me,” I teased, well knowing that as always, these would be eight pecks on the lips.

I scooted a little closer, leaned over her and pressed my lips softly against hers. I was getting way more nervous than I had in the past few days - it probably had to do with the setting: Mercy laying on her bed, me leaning over her. That was way more intimate than just meeting her somewhere in the hallway or her office for a quick peck.

 _One_ , I counted in my head. I tried to look elsewhere - the wall or so, to not get too absorbed into the feeling, but it was useless. I was still fully aware that I was kissing Mercy and she was warm from being curled up in bed and her breath tingled my skin. Her body and hair seemed to have an especially intense scent at that moment, probably because the pillow and blanket were also smelling like her.

 _Two_. I kissed her again and I could feel her smile under my lips. When I pulled back from that kiss, I looked down at her - she was indeed smiling. My heart did a leap. It was such a precious sight and here I was supposed to control myself.

My third kiss lingered a little longer, out of pure selfishness. She did not stop me or protest, which was dangerous enough - it was too easy to imagine she wanted this.

“Mmh.. nice,...” she commented when I kissed her the fourth time, making this a lot worse. When I pulled back, her eyes were closed. What was happening here? 

I kissed her the fifth time and I swear to all things holy that it was unintentional that my lower lip slipped between hers. I had just been so distracted by her breathing out a little harder that I kind of missed my target. And still, she did not protest and still my whacky, love-struck little head felt unsuitably encouraged.

The sixth kiss was placed that way intentionally, my lip sliding between hers. And this time, her lips captured it and held on for just a moment. My eyes fell closed just like hers were, caught up in the moment. My mouth wanted to consume her, my brain screamed at me to pull back. Ultimately, my brain won, though I don’t understand how it managed. I might have chalked it up to fear of making her angry again.

For our seventh kiss, I intentionally reversed the situation. This time, it was _her_ lower lip between mine. She could hardly berate me for doing something she had done herself before I did it, right?

And then, I had one more kiss left and no time to think about how to make the best of it. I just made my lips as soft as I could, gently parted and slowly let our mouths sink against each other. There was a very distinct kissing sound as we pulled apart. 

“Never knew you could be so gentle,” she commented with a pleasant smile, her eyes still closed.

I sat back up and patted her hip, to distract myself from thinking about what I had just done - and (more amazingly) how it had been received. “Come, I made food and then we have to go for a one-hour walk,” I said, destroying the moment bulldozer-style. It was the only way I could keep myself from blushing.


	8. Day Seven

DAY SEVEN

On day seven I woke up - for the first time in years - feeling elated. I am usually not someone who can be talked to before coffee, but apparently Pharah’s cooking skills and having fulfilled that task have given me some sort of special beauty sleep. I was up five minutes before the alarm went off and Pharah was soundly asleep next to me.

She had an arm draped over her forehead and even though she did not take up much room in general, she looked all sprawled out. Her other arm was on her belly, one of her legs above and one under her blanket. I found it utterly adorable. I had been sleeping next to this woman for a week and never really, consciously noticed her asleep next to me. I either had gone to bed before her or fallen asleep so quickly - and I am usually not capable of taking anything in when the alarm wakes me. 

Our forced relationship was almost over and I could not help feel a tinge of regret. Pharah had said she had fakely prolonged out relationship-game because she liked talking to me, liked learning more about me and liked hanging out. I could not help but agree with that and thought that maybe I should try to keep our closeness going, game or not. Of course the bed-sharing and kissing would be gone.

The kissing… that had actually been very nice. It had been a long time since I had been kissed and back then what I had gotten had not been much to my liking. Pharah - obviously with just using her lips, had already given me a lot more than my last partner in that respect. And I had shamelessly allowed myself to enjoy it. 

Now, as per schedule, I would get two more kisses - today and tomorrow. Only two. Was it crazy to regret that? It occurred to me that the latest time we could kiss without failing our task was sometime before midnight. That would amount to 12 kisses per day - 24 altogether, if you combined both days. That sounded much more intriguing than two, but while we had sort of had a reason for postponing our kissing session yesterday, there was no solid reason to do so today. Neither Pharah nor I would be extremely busy today, despite the leftover work I had accumulated. There would be plenty of opportunity to share that noon kiss in time. 

I nearly jumped when the alarm clock went off and Pharah started stirring. She blinked her eyes open and focused on me.

“Mornin’,” she mumbled and rubbed over her face with her hand. 

“Good morning!” I smiled back.

“Oh,” she responded with raised eyebrows. “Usually you are more like ‘I-hate-the-world-don’t-talk-to-me’ in the morning.”

“I am sorry, yes. It is not meant personally, I promise,” I apologized. “Mornings are just so cold and harsh and you are forced out of your warm bed and then have to take off your clothes to get into the shower and that’s even more cold… and all the tasks of the day are still before you.”

Pharah chuckled at that. “I see, I see. Maybe you should come running with me some time. It really wakes your spirit.”

I groaned. “Ugh - no way!”

She dug herself out from under the blanket. “I like a not-so-grumpy-morning-Mercy.”

I pondered her compliment. “I am not usually like that, so does that even count for the task?”

“No idea. But I will easily come up with an extra compliment, just to be safe.” She gave me a small, sweet little smirk. “Wouldn’t want to fail the game again and have you hurling insults at--”

I didn’t hurl an insult at her, but a pillow. She protested loudly and covered her face with her arms to not get hit square on the nose. Then she threw it back at me and I failed at evading it, releasing a puff of breath as it hit my chest. 

“You!” I laughed, grabbed the pesky pillow and hit her on the head repeatedly, always pulling it away just in time before she could get ahold of it. When she did anyway, she attempted to throw me over, so I threw my blanket over her head. She dug herself out from it and threw herself on top of me, wrestling me down. Pharah is physically way stronger than I am and before I knew it, I was trapped, fighting hopelessly against being pinned and laughing.

“That will teach you to whack me,” she triumphed. 

“I give up!” I looked up at her, into those dark eyes of hers and that amused smile she was wearing - and I tried not to let it show how in that moment I realized why I was so elated that morning. It was not Pharah’s delicious food or the fact that I had finally accomplished that workload. It was her. It was the first time I realized that waking up next to her was something to enjoy and worth getting up for. 

Instead of admitting to that feeling though, I laughed, looked into those pretty, dark brown eyes and said: “Here is a compliment! You are real fun in bed!”

She stuck the tip of her tongue out at me. “You are terrible!”

“That is not a compliment!”

\---

Mercy and I decided to get to our work quickly that day. I had mission reports to review and analyze, she had piled up work in her office that she could now finally get to. 

Yet, we somehow managed to run into each other at 11 am for lunch. Well, maybe running into each other was not quite an accurate description… I kind of knew her approximate lunch time and just so _happened_ to be in the kitchen. I just wanted to see her and also grab a chance to dispense a compliment and a personal question. I opted for telling her that I liked how she had decorated her room, bailing out at the last second from telling her that she was adorable when she was upset or nervous and ran her hand through her hair. 

I also asked her whether she missed her parents.

“A lot,” she replied. “It’s weird – it was so long ago and I have so few memories of them. Sometimes I wonder whether I am just building up a fake image of them when I think about what they would have said or done in a specific situation… like, maybe I don’t actually remember them how they were, but how I imagine they might have been.” There was a tinge of sadness in her voice.

“I think that is okay,” I assured her. “It’s all you have.”

“I am not sure I agree,” she replied. “I actually wrote it all down – every memory I could think of in as much detail as I could. It does not even fill a whole journal.”

“Why did you write it all down?” I wondered. 

“Because every time you call upon a memory, your brain changes it a little. The more often you recall something, the more it gets changed. And when I am fifty or sixty, I want the stories to be as close to accurate as I can manage, no matter how often I have recalled them.”

I thought about her words. “It’s a good idea. Maybe I should get to something like that myself. I got a bit of a taste of what life without mum could be like – and having to only rely on memory. It is true that you only appreciate what you have got once it is gone. Maybe I should start appreciating now.”

Mercy took a deep breath. “A good idea. You know, Fareeha, you can be so much more contemplative than you let on. I noticed that when we talked about the universe and the world. In battle, you always seem so straight forward and focused only on the information that is important at that moment. I am amazed that you are so able to clear your head and focus one moment and then contemplate things in-depth later. I can’t do that. My head is constantly, constantly filled with a heap of things.”

That may have been a strange compliment, but if anything, her expression and her tone showed me how very genuinely it was meant. I smiled at her. “I think the soldier in me is taking turns with a lost child, honestly, and that is all there is to it.” 

She smiled back. “Seems a bit too simple an explanation.” She paused. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“I think as per the rules you are actually required to.”

“No, I mean, I want to give you the opportunity to choose not to answer, if you do not want to.”

I nodded. “But it will still count as a question, if I choose to answer,” I decided. 

She took a sip from her juice before asking: “Are you scared of Ana dying?” 

The question was a sting to the heart. It was not a bad question at all, but it still hit me a little unprepared and I had to swallow before I could answer. “I am scared of everyone’s death. We are all in constant danger and the potential to have to grieve over anyone is a painful thing to think about. But while I will be sad, I shall be also grateful if mum dies of old age and under our care. For all of us, this is not a certainty.”

Mercy nodded. “Thanks,” she said to me answering that question.

\---

That afternoon I dragged Pharah out l, much against her will, to go shopping. Pharah is not a shopper, but since I needed new sunglasses, I demanded she’d bear with me so I didn’t have to go out twice that day. I tried to make it fun, joking with her about different styles that did not suit either of us and then getting done relatively quickly to drag her into a movie store.

This was a bit more of her liking – though we soon split up, finding that the sections that we were interested in did not overlap at all. It was a source for amusement, to say the least. We could literally haunt each other with movies that the other would pick out. We made promises never to go out on a movie date together, if we could help it, as the movie that would suit both our tastes had yet to be invented.

Nevertheless, we both found something to take home – different movies, of course. Pharah crinkled her nose over my adaptation of a literary classic that explored the role of women in century old societies, while I decided to pointedly not comment on the blockbuster gore that she had picked out. The cover alone made me cringe for all its promises of darkness, violence and weird camera angles.

As we stopped to get some ice cream – vanilla and strawberry for me and mint and chocolate chip for Pharah – I pondered my next set of compliments and questions. 

“I am glad you can joke about your taste in movies when someone like me rolls her eyes about it. Not taking things like that seriously makes for a good time when we are out together.”

“Right back at you,” she said, licking a stray droplet from the cone, making me stare a little at the curling tip of her tongue.

“Here is a personal question…” I continued. “A while ago, you wrote on that sheet you gave me that you were certain about having been in love. Who was the lucky person?”

Suddenly, all color drained from Pharah’s face and she stopped eating. Apparently I had touched upon something that I’d have better stayed away from. She looked at me like she was in serious shock.

“Mercy…” she answered with a definite strain to her voice … or was that nervousness? “Please…. Please don’t make me answer that. I will answer any other question… but please let me opt out of this one.” She looked more than serious – she looked almost terrified. The only explanation I could find is that I might know the person. Maybe this was going a little too far, then.

“Sorry – of course,” I agreed. “You can just tell me what it was you liked about them.”

Pharah shook her head. “That’s the same question dressed up differently - you would just start guessing!” I could tell she was pretending to tease me, but it did not come across quite as loosely and jokingly as she might have intended. She still seemed stricken by what I had asked her – and I felt bad about that. While I was nosey – especially after she had indicated there was a good reason I should be – I had no intention to make her seriously uncomfortable. 

“Okay – then just tell me what is important to you in a partner,” I suggested. That way, she could maybe dwell on that past love of hers, but without me prodding for their identity. I knew for myself that I would make an honest attempt not to consider who she might be describing. I tried to ignore how uneasy I suddenly felt about the whole subject. Maybe it was just difficult to imagine how Pharah might have acted when having her eyes on someone – she always seemed so much in control and love is something that drags you out of that comfort zone, no matter what you do. Maybe… as it looked like, things had gone unrequited, I may simply have felt a tinge of regret or anger for whatever person did not see how nice it was to be around Pharah and that it might have been worth a try.

“Well – I guess a potential partner for me needs to be caring.”

“Oh come on, Pharah – everyone wants that. There must be something that intrigues you in a different way than those commonly liked characteristics.”

Pharah pondered for a moment. “I think, I find a decent level of confidence rather appealing. Maybe I am too used to taking directions, but a woman who knows what she wants seems like someone intriguing to me.”

“Yeah, I can see that fitting to you,” I agreed. “It also makes things a little more straight-forward in many aspects of life. That suits you as well.”

Pharah nodded and finally continued eating her runaway ice cream. She had to lick the cone and her hand quite a bit to catch up and I watched her battle with the sugary liquid with much amusement. Maybe amusement was not the right word – but I could not really name that feeling. I was generally a little lost at getting my feelings straight lately. I was likely a little overworked. Good thing Pharah was here to take me out of that.

Pharah then pointed at her bag from the electronics store. “I for one want to watch my movie. How about it, Mercy?” she was obviously teasing me because she knew I would never watch what she had picked out in a million years, but it gave me an idea.

\---

I can most honestly say, I have never watched a movie like this, but I was totally content. We were sitting in Mercy’s bed, propped up against the pillows and the only thing we shared, was a bowl of popcorn. Other than that we both had our laptops on our laps, headphones on our heads and each of us watched the movie she desired to see. 

I felt her laughing every now and then and eventually even rub her eyes when the story caught her in an emotional moment. She probably felt me twitch whenever something unexpected happened in my movie and occasionally our hands would meet in that bowl of popcorn, making us both grin. 

So maybe, a movie date with Mercy was not exactly out of the question as long as we were not watching the same movie. Yet, I could not help being distracted. Not only because I was so touched by her emotional reactions to her movie – or rather, the fact, that she was openly displaying those emotions – but because it was getting late when we began watching and that noon kiss had yet to happen (and all the penalty kisses that would follow). I had not mentioned it all afternoon. In fact, I had made sure that I was out of the kitchen from our lunch break and back being busy before the clock could strike noon.

She also had not brought it up and when her movie ended (a few minutes after mine), it was almost eleven at night. This meant we were already eleven kisses overdue. And when the clock would actually strike eleven, we would have reached the maximum penalty of twelve kisses before the clock would reset and we would start anew with an extra day of this game for failing our tasks - but only one single noon-kiss to look forward to. 

I glanced at the clock on my laptop. 10:59. I closed it and put it aside, knowing very well that we could not fail this task again. Not when Mercy was so adamant about winning against my mother and getting angry when her plan to do so was threatened. 

I glanced at the alarm clock at Mercy’s bedside table. I watched it a couple of seconds before it jumped to 11. Mercy was just closing her laptop and putting it aside, right next to that clock.

“Mercy…” I began, knowing that it was going to be 12 kisses or fail from this point on until midnight. 

“Hm?”

“Uh--- the noon kiss…” I began, but I could feel my cheeks getting warmer. 

“Oh... yes – we haven’t done that yet, have we?” she replied, not at all surprised or shocked that it had slipped both our minds. “Thanks for keeping an eye on things,” she said. “Well, I guess you owe me twelve, if I calculated correctly?”

“Yes and no. It’s twelve kisses, but I don’t think I am necessarily the one owing them to anyone,” I replied. It was as much her responsibility as it was mine, after all.

“Oh, petty details,” she laughed. “Fine – it’s my pleasure to be the one in debt here.”

She rolled over onto her hands and knees and crawled to kneel beside me. She took my laptop and stacked it on top of hers, then leaned over me, her hands left and right of my waist, supporting her. Her face was so close – well, obviously, since she had to kiss me - but it made me strangely nervous. No, no that was not strange. I had hoped for this, after all - I had intentionally postponed the kissing to get as much out of it as I could. I could not help but remember those eight kisses when she had captured my lips with hers and sent me spiraling into heaven for a fraction of a second. What would four more kisses do? 

She smiled, leaned over me and pushed her lips softly against mine. My heart immediately began to flutter. _One_ , my head counted.

She disengaged for not even a second and her lips were back – longer this time, moving. She was not just pecking me on the lips, she was playing with them. _Two_. Not even half a breath passed and her lips were back, capturing my lower lip between hers. How could I not return this gesture? This heavenly woman was giving me a small taste of everything I wanted and I could not possibly have resisted. _Three_.

With the next kiss, I could feel the tip of her tongue against my lips, carefully placed in between them, lingering. And of course, my lips were all too willing to make room, part and make a silly attempt to bait her in… and to my greatest shock she took the bait without hesitation.

Before I could even think twice, Mercy was kissing me full force, her tongue in my mouth, playing and dominating me while my breath hitched in both shock and excitement. Oh my goodness – what was happening here?! Had she expected me to reject that? To resist? To laugh? To fend her off and hit her with a pillow? Or had she calculated on my weak defenses against her expert seduction? If so, why?

But I wanted this – so badly – and if this was her daring me to yell stop first – just testing how far I’d go down the slippery slope of inappropriateness - goodness, I would not be the one stopping this. I pushed myself up, away from the pillow and towards her, heatedly capturing her lips and her tongue. Her breath was brushing hard against my skin. It occasionally escaped between our lips when we left a little room.

I had lost count – was this one long, intimate kiss – or were these several, lined up in short succession? Was each breath we took a new start, or just a break from the continuation? And was she just playing with me to get me aroused and then leave me hanging, like the fool I was, turned on and all the more amusing for it? Or was she seriously seducing me? Was I interpreting too much into this? 

I could not help, but reach out, lay my hand on her waist and tummy, feeling the intake of breath that was just as heavy and irregular as mine. She moved then, climbing on top of me, straddling my waist and pushing me down with her kisses, until I was back on the pillow.

I was pinned by those hot lips, sexy thighs and by her hands which were on my waist, pushing up my shirt and touching my skin. I felt it, but I could not grasp it. How was this even possible – how was Mercy – my sexy, angry, beautiful, secretly admired Mercy – sitting on top of me, kissing me into mindlessness and taking my shirt until I was hastily scrambling to take hers?

I did not dare to speak or say her name, fearing I would break the moment we were in – whatever it was. I had so many questions, so many fears, so many what ifs – but if I could have this moment, this blatant lust from her – what a fool I would be to reject it! No matter what would happen afterwards, this moment would forever be mine.

I hardly caught a glance of her. Whenever we were not fumbling at cloth to get it away from us, we were kissing so heatedly. And when our lips were not crashing together, our tongues not taking over each other’s mouths, kisses descended elsewhere. My neck, her shoulders, my clothes, her breasts, her tummy and my waist. Everything was just kisses and feelings – no words, no glances. 

After shirt and pants were gone, I was the first to take her bra and she willingly let me, even though I was bold and clumsy about it because my body had started aching for attention – her attention. I caught a glimpse of her perfect breasts before I was inevitably drawn to them, coating them in my kisses and making her gasp. Oh, those sweet sounds, the incredible feeling of her hands in my hair as I shamelessly attacked her nipples. I had my arms around her waist, had her pulled close enough to feel the movement caused by her gasping breath against my body. As I kissed her breasts so feverishly, she unclasped my bra with expert swiftness, stole and tossed it and returned all the lusty attention I had given her to me five times over. I felt so wanted, it made me dizzy.

Her kisses were enough to make my breath shudder, her tongue made me moan out in need and delight. My head wanted to ask so many questions, but my body screamed for more, drowning it all out. I wanted Mercy, and I wanted her so badly, I could focus on nothing else but the need I felt for her. 

Unable to wait, I sat up, reversed our positions and pushed her backwards down on the bed, kneeling between her parted thighs. I hastily grabbed the hem of her undies, scooted back so she could bring her knees together to allow me to slide them off of her. The cloth was wet and it carried the scent of arousal. This enticing, sexual moment made me realize that I would not only get a memory I could hold and cherish forever, but that I had the unique opportunity to do my best to make Mercy feel good – so _she_ would remember – and remember it well.

I kissed my way up her thighs, lifting one of her legs as I travelled, so her hips were firmly pinned against the mattress. She moaned long before I reached her glistening crotch, long before I could steal the first taste of her arousal.

She did not let me play for long – her hands reached for my hair and she tugged, pulling me away from the salty warmth and making me curse internally because that was, after all, my best skill. She did not talk, but planted a firm kiss on my mouth, wrapped a leg around me and pulled me down – hip to hip. 

This time, I looked into her eyes – her big, wide pupils were taking over, leaving only a small ring of blue iris. Her expression was filled with obvious desire and it made jolts run through my body – she was so aroused and her hungry look was fully concentrated on me. She _wanted_ me in that moment, and so badly. I adjusted myself so that my thigh slipped between hers - and her leg, in turn, reached my crotch, wet underwear and all. She immediately and hastily scrambled to free me of the garment, not a moment of hesitation. I helped by kicking it off and settling back on her thigh with a content moan.

I was lip to lip with her – without kissing – as we moved, my hair falling as a short curtain around us. Just her and me, stuck on each other’s eyes in all our lust and need. We fell into a grinding rhythm and I could distinctly feel every part of her on my wet thigh: The nub of her clit and the lips hugging my flesh, coating my thigh with her wetness. She was sexy and shameless and she knew exactly what she wanted. She was still not saying a word, but a firm push by her hand on my behind let me know to slide lower – which I gladly did. She replied with a lustful moan which was all the reward I needed. 

As both our moans grew more vocal and excited, her gaze did not leave my eyes – not for even a moment. She was all mine – all mine to watch as she built up her need – and my potential climax along with it. Her hands were on my back, digging into my shoulder blades. I was sure she was leaving marks – breaking skin with her nails – but I could not have cared less. If anything, her careless attack of my body added to the excitement I felt. And what a sight it was – my sexy Mercy was out of breath, pushing hard against me to get the friction she so desperately needed. And her leg muscles, with every move, tensed against my crotch. Every push was a little more intense and a little more exciting and half the time I expected I would come with the next stroke, but the feeling just grew stronger and made me want to climax all the more badly for it.

Suddenly, she fell out of rhythm, bucked against me, her hips twitching and her voice rumbling. It was beautiful, intense and sexy and drove me right over the edge with her, showering her leg in my own liquid. I nearly lost control there myself, but managed to remember to keep moving until I was sure she was done. Her sweet, unrestrained voice turned from ecstatic moaning to heavy breathing. 

As I recovered from my climax, I suddenly became aware of all the noises I had lost while concentrating on the expression of pure sexual arousal on her pretty face. The slick sound of wet movements between us, the rustle of bedsheets, the gasps of my recovering angel and the little noises of the mattress as we squirmed on top of each other, enjoying a pleasant aftermath. She was so beautiful in that moment. Her cheeks were glowing, her eyes alert and yet her look was so pleasantly sex-drunk. 

I kissed her shoulder, hid my face on her neck and on the mattress, not even daring to let out a content chuckle because I still did not understand much more than that we somehow ended up here, on top of each other, grinding until we came. As for the reasons and how this could have happened, I was completely lost. And I began getting worried about what would happen next. Now that the carnal desire was taken care of, reason might well wish to settle in.

She did not say anything, however. We caught our breaths for a while, stuck in this awkward situation and position on top of each other. 

“Mh..” I began, as if I had something to say, even though my mind was blank.

The second I elicited that sound, Mercy’s hand left its position on my back, slipped down between us and between my legs. I let out a shocked, but ultimately approving moan as her finger pressed my skin down over my still sensitive clit. 

She shoved at my hips, turning me sideways to lay me on my back. She was above me so quickly, her hand making her intentions clear, I could not think much more but ‘Okay, here is round two’.

It did not end there, or later, or with the next orgasm or the one after that. Mercy seemed insatiable, giving us only moments to recover before she was upon me again, kissing, touching, sucking and grinding. I could neither resist nor stop her – my fear of never having this ever again was too great to say no. 

We did explore a whole world of sexual play that night – oral, penetration, side-by-side masturbation, and we tried every thinkable position - anything that required no toys and no extras. Even though our initial grinding had been very straight forward, I soon learned that Mercy had a knack for getting me insanely excited and then changing positions before I could come. It was both nerve-wrecking and incredibly hot and I cursed her for being able to read me well enough to achieve that. Our bodies got increasingly more sheened with sweat and our muscles were quivering from the strain. The young night became older, the clock ticking past 3am and 4am. I lost count of how often she or I had come – every part of me was aching in protest already, but even if she could have crippled me who these activities, I would still have kept up with her. Every little climax was sweet and different in its own right - from the short, local bursts of pleasure to the rippling waves of all-encompassing joy that took over every nerve and made me forget my name. We had it all and in every way.

When we were finally spent, the clock read 5:23 and I had her laying on one of my arms, both of us breathing heavily and possibly smelling like a whole orgy or worse. I half expected her to climb on top of me again, but somewhere between our catching of breath and that potential next round, we both passed into an exhausted, much needed sleep, filthy and aching as we were.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> now you must decide how you wish this story to continue. If you want Ana to win the game, please continue reading by pressing "next chapter" (chapter 9). If you want Mercy and Pharah to win the game - that is, not be a couple by the end of day eight - please jump to chapter 11.


	9. Day Eight (Ana wins)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the beginning of the version in which Ana wins the game. If you want Pharah and Mercy to win the game, please jump to chapter 11 instead.
> 
> Also, if you have already read the other ending, please note that the beginning of this chapter is the same. If you wan to skip this part, do a text search for "Are we still going to be close?" as Mercy's reaction in the subsequent conversation will begin to differ from the other version.

DAY EIGHT

Every part of me felt both over-used and really relaxed. My muscles felt almost sore. Between my legs, I had that familiar feeling that warns you that if you move the wrong way, a cramp is inevitable. I turned in Pharah’s arm, finding myself in the exact same position I last remembered myself in - as if I had been too exhausted to even move in my sleep. A short glance at the alarm clock told me that noon had just passed.

Another short glance, this time at Pharah, told me that she was awake, too, but I could not read her expression. She was not smiling; she was not wondering… her dark eyes seemed unfathomable at best. Yesterday’s worry returned to me at that moment: If the quiet lasted too long, I would have to explain myself. Explain why I did what I did when I pushed my tongue into Pharah’s mouth, freed her of all her clothes in my hot need and did not give her even the slightest chance to deny me for hours. Only, I could not answer these questions, neither to her nor to myself.

And so I did what I had done for hours the previous night: I turned, crawled up to Pharah and started kissing her with obvious intentions. This time, I was sure she would reject me and demand an explanation, but Pharah – just like last night – simply played along. My touches excited her and while I reckoned her body had to be as sore as mine, she got wet and aroused so easily. What we ended up doing was not as much filled with teasing and experimenting as the previous night. This morning, our approach was straight-forward and lead to a quick, intense and shared orgasm.

After that, my body screamed for me to stop torturing it with sex. As much as I wanted distraction, I could do no more. I was sticky with sweat and other things, both old and new, and so was Pharah. I just did not know how to get out of the situation now and how the awkward rest of the day (or possibly our lives) would be.

I thought of the game… of how I had intentionally not demanded my noon kiss and then gladly taken Pharah’s invitation to kiss her twelve times in a row with a rather unexpected progression. The forced kissing had become the gateway drug to something much more intimate.

I glanced at the clock and realized that at this time forced kissing was officially over. Noon had passed us and there was no way I could claim we missed our noon kiss. We had just spent an orgasm with our lips firmly pressed against each other to quiet the sounds we were making. Last night might have been quite noisy, but at midday, people were awake to hear us and our mutual understanding seemed to be that we did not want to broadcast what we were doing.

“Mind if I shower first?” I blurted out. My desire to clean off the sweat had made the decision for me about how to get out of this moment.

She looked at me with an expression I could not quite read, but it was not a good one. I supposed that it generally wasn’t quite common that two people spend hours upon hours screwing each other silly and then go to the shower alone. But I could not suggest sharing. Maybe I needed that moment for myself, maybe I was worried who would notice we weren’t showering alone and wonder why. But most likely, I was worried that all the patient soaping would leave way too much opportunity to ask questions that I still could not answer.

“Go ahead.” Pharah replied, her voice not giving much away. “See you at breakfast.” She sounded friendly, but that was all.

I glanced at the clock. “Do you think it will still count as breakfast?”

She nodded. “I’ve had had late breakfast with mum before. She still calls it that.”

Oh right. This was _Ana’s_ game. I had nearly forgotten.

\---

I did not know what to make of this. We sat in the kitchen, wet, freshly washed hair and all, and ate cereal at nearly two in the afternoon. And she had not said a word other than asked me about showers. It drove me insane. I wanted to both know what the heck had happened to us last night and not know. Because the answer had a potential to break my heart.

This was the last day within a game that had gotten quite out of hand, provided we fulfilled our tasks. And what then?

“Compliment…?” I tried.

“You are fun in bed,” she answered. “And I mean that differently from the last time I said it, so it is a new compliment.”

Her answer left me even more confused. She was not pretending it did not happen, nor completely avoiding the subject, nor was she clearing things up about what exactly it had meant. I wanted to scream in frustration.

“What happened last night?” I asked blatantly, abusing the game to get some clarity.

“I don’t know,” Mercy answered, shaking her head – and her voice seemed so genuinely at a loss, I didn’t have anything to retort. It also hurt. ‘I don’t know’ was not ‘I suddenly realized how much you mean to me, Pharah.’ I had expected that, but it still hurt. Desire had happened, I supposed. And being the lovesick fool I undoubtedly was, I had grasped for that little piece of straw that had been offered to me.

“Do you agree that… this… that you started that?” I felt myself getting bolder, maybe a little angry. I did deserve some answers. Sure I had played along, but I had not initiated this.

“Yes,” she replied dryly. “I have. Do you agree that you were not opposed?”

There was a dangerous edge to her voice. I did not want to fight again – not after this. I immediately regretted my annoyance. “I have… How could I not? You are gorgeous, Mercy… naked even more so.” I blushed as I said it, but it was worth it, if it meant we would not get more irritated with each other.

She stirred her cereal, but she was not eating any. “We cannot tell Ana,” she said.

It gave me a sting – that was her concern, even at this point? Not admitting that this game had led to something rather close to what mum had anticipated?

“Pharah, do you want her to know – and then feel like mingling with other people’s lives is an okay thing to do? I realize you are not so concerned about winning this game, but do you understand the implication – the things your mother will do if she finds her weird ideas confirmed in whichever way?”

I sighed. “No… I know you are right…” I admitted. “Not to mention how she would rub her triumph under our noses - and I can think of way better stuff for my mother to tease me about than my sex life.” I had meant to say ‘screwed up sex life’. I could not possibly tell her how much worse it would be for me since mum knew how I felt about Mercy.

What I had really wanted to tell her, though, was that I wished this conversation would focus on something else, not the game - but I realized how easily it could be perceived as a snappy and angry answer, if I demanded it. And I did not want to fight, no matter what.

A part of me wanted to postpone the game again, prolong it for another day because I came to the realization that after last night, whatever I hoped would happen after the game was over, it wouldn’t be there. A friend of mine once claimed that sex destroys relationships. Maybe he was right.

How could I possibly mend this enough to not end up in a worse place with her than I had before this game? That place had not been bad, but not nearly as close as we had been before last night. “You… are really surprising. In a good way,” I admitted. “And…” I blushed a little, “really skilled.”

 _‘What the hell, Fareeha?’_ I scolded myself. _‘You want to mend things and you bring up the same awkward subject?’_

Mercy studied me. “I enjoyed it, too – thanks to your skill. It was maybe not the right thing to do for either of us, but I cannot yet regret it.”

There it was: It had been the wrong thing to do, and Mercy, being much less of a fool who’d run her mouth than I was, gave me an adult answer to our escapades: We did it, it wasn’t right, but it felt good.

Was this going to end up becoming some friends-with-benefits thing? Because those usually do end really painfully for the one who has feelings – and I started to understand why. If Mercy were to suggest that, I would not have the strength to say no, especially not after what I had seen the previous night - namely Mercy writhing and turning in the sweet ecstasy of her climax, repeatedly. I would want this – and I knew all she had to do was ask and I’d throw myself down that cliff to have something of her. And it would hurt because after every such meeting I would feel how she did not want me for anything else.

“I should go get some work done,” I mumbled as I got up. “It’s late enough as it is.”

“Okay. Dinner at seven. Maybe we can just take a walk after.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Was that it? Silence over a night of prolonged, repeated, horny passion? I tried to remember what I had felt like last night – about holding this moment forever, about wanting to show her how good I could make her feel. That thought did not seem to hold so much positivity anymore.

\---

The day moved on so slowly and I was so caught up in my thoughts. Yesterday night, things had felt strange already – every nerve inside of me had wanted this and my brain was constantly evading the thoughts of responsibility and the fragility of friendship and intimacy. But I could not evade that forever. Fareeha had been incredibly kind to me – she could have been kicking and screaming, demanding answers, blamed me for a seduction she had not fully agreed to, even though she had played along. She could have put all the blame on me, told me she felt used, asked me to never touch her again.

She had not done any of these things. She had also not claimed any responsibility. Maybe I should have been dissatisfied with that. It takes two people to sleep with each other and it takes more than passive agreement to have sex repeatedly, for hours, go to sleep, wake up and do it again. But I felt so incredibly guilty. Maybe because I was slightly older, maybe because I was still not in the clear about my own motivation or maybe really just because I had been the one sticking _my_ tongue into _her_ mouth and I had been the one taking her shirt first.

I also felt like I was the one who had broken this and the fact that as per the game’s rules we still had to get along for at least a day, was looming over me. But something that weighed on me much more heavily was that there would be a time after this game. And I was scared of what that was going to be like.

But there was still a dinner, an hour of distraction and possibly a moment in bed to come. I knew that I would not seduce her again this night, of course. Even I have the ability to learn from my mistakes. A day ago I had been calculating on using the game’s rules to get more kisses for the pure joy of it. I deeply regretted my selfishness now. Coming tomorrow, I’d be alone in my bed again. I had changed the bedsheets after the shower for obvious reasons. I could change them again the next day to wipe the memory of sharing that bed with Pharah, but that would be superficial at best. My bed would not ever be the same. Unlike me and other beds I have had, this bed had been a virgin to this day – and no one can erase the memory of a first time.

And even without the component we had added last night – I had eventually begun to feel elated to wake up next to Pharah. It had been the same feeling I had enjoyed when dropping my work to go to dinner with her or spend that hour off base. It was better than the life I had been satisfied with before because work had never let me go. My bed had always been perfectly lonely and content, not knowing what it was like to share. And now, I would lose this extra - and all the other extras – because after what I had done last night. Who knew how much distance we would need from each other. I had been such a fool for letting my lust dictate my actions and switch off my head.

There was nothing to be done now, not much, anyway. I had one small hope within me. A little ago we had just curled up in bed, talked about things we cared for and had enjoyed a good time. When we had watched the movies, I had even seen the benefit of interests not shared. Undoubtedly, these moments and feelings had been there, even if my other actions overshadowed them. But a couple of hours was not much time to undo the bad and remind us only of the good. My two options were to either try anyway, or purposely fail the game to gain more days – the latter being a choice which could easily backfire.

Maybe trying to fix this was a stupid thought, but I was not going to just give up. I decided that this was my last chance to make up for all the less admirable things I had done in the previous week – from my anger against her to the ravishing of her body.

I spent the afternoon preparing to cook dinner for us, but I found myself so indecisive. I did not know how to meet Pharah’s taste and I did not know which kind of food I was able to prepare well enough to impress anyone. I am not a bad cook in general, but I cannot exactly prepare a five-star meal, either. I browsed recipes for ages, eventually deciding to marinade chicken in orange juice with added greens and potato dumplings. Maybe not the most original choice, but I was pressed a little for time since we had gotten up so late.

The other thing I mulled over was how to act. I had already accepted the allegations during breakfast. And even now, I found it was not wise to pretend nothing had happened. Something had happened. But I was not able to contemplate it right. As so often lately, I could not place my feelings – and I was far from ready to go and discuss thoughts that I could not even finish myself with another person. The game demanded more compliments and questions and as I saw it, I had two options: I could refer to what had happened or not. I did not like either option.

At least, Pharah seemed pleasantly surprised when I called her over to eat. She liked the food and for a moment, there was a tinge of good things from before last night in the air. I wanted that back so badly and scolded myself for my thoughtlessness again.

“I have another compliment,” I began eventually, as our eating slowed down, thanks to being well-fed and happy. She nodded and looked up at me. My heart was pounding in the strangest of ways. I felt like whatever I would do or or say, it could potentially backfire and I had no way of predicting it. The ground I was walking on was too shaky for my comfort.

I steeled myself for whatever was to come. I ran my hand through my hair before I pushed the words out. “You are … pretty amazing. I don’t mean because of last night – I mean with everything we did. The talking, the being out together, even the movie watching, the food you made… but I— guess… I also mean last night,” I looked at the table. “I can’t pretend this did not happen. I can’t pretend I have answers for you. But I can tell you that I think a part of me got carried away because I had such a great time with you and realized what a great person I got to know in the past week.”

“Thanks,” she replied quietly, her cheeks a little red. “It’s okay, I suppose. We are adults, we get along well – we got carried away because, honestly, sometimes the lack of action can be a bit frustrating. I get it.”

Her answer was reasonable, and yet it did not ring right with me. Neither I nor any other sentient being mounts their friends out of sheer sexual frustration. And it did not feel like that was what had happened, either.

“I also have a question,” I continued.

“Hm?” she just asked and put her cutlery aside.

“Are we still going to be close?” It was, after all, my greatest fear.

“Close?” she echoed. “What do you mean by close?” she sighs in frustration. “I am trying to understand, I really am. But when I ask, you can’t give me any answers and now I don’t understand, either – do you mean are we going to be friends, do you mean are we going to continue having sex? What are you hoping for?”

She said that so outright, a jolt of embarrassment ran through me. I looked at her, trying to discern what she wanted, so I could give the right answer, but I could not tell from her expression.

I should never have asked and never again have brought up last night – it did backfireafter all. Because now she wanted to know what I wanted - but I was not able to say. For one thing, I did not know, and for the other, if whatever I would say did not match what Pharah wanted, the opposite was likely to happen.

“You are right… it was stupid of me to ask something, if I cannot be clearer,” I evaded her.

Pharah laid her forehead against her folded hands and sighed with sheer frustration. I could not even blame her. “I will be whatever you want me to be, really, Mercy. If I just knew what it was. I cannot stand this hovering in mid-air with you. Not outside of the battlefield. Just tell me.”

Her attempt at joking to ease the situation did not go unnoticed, though I could not respond to that bit. “Pharah, I can’t. I told you my head is constantly full of thoughts. It is. Normally they make sense, but lately they do not anymore. I seem to have lost my ability to … to understand even myself.” I was frustrated, too. And on top of that I could see her frustration nagging on her.

“Are you sick?” she asked, looking up and it was not an accusation. There was honest concern in her expression. “I mean… if you say your thoughts aren’t clear anymore and that isn’t normal for you… I don’t mean to imply that I think you are crazy… I-“ she stopped herself short, frowning. “Sorry, that cannot possibly come out the right way.” The situation had become really awkward, giving me a taste of what our future relationship might be like.

I shrugged. “At least that would explain why I can’t pinpoint where my feelings are taking me. I flatout seduced you, which I have never done with anyone before -and never thought I could-, and I cannot tell you why. I asked you about your previous infatuation – inappropriately so – and I suddenly got really uneasy thinking about it. I got unreasonably angry at you over a silly game. I am sorry. I don’t understand myself and you are at the receiving end of my confusion. You are too great to deserve that.” And it hurt me saying that because I began to realize how unjustly I had treated her.

Pharah looked up at me with big eyes. She bit her lower lip, thinking, frowning. “It’s okay, Mercy. I am not angry with you,” she assured me. Then, after a moment of silence, she got up and put both our plates into the dishwasher, seemingly still in contemplation. It made me uneasy – I already did not understand myself and now I feared that Pharah was about to become a total mystery to me as well.

“You suggested a walk for tonight, didn’t you? Maybe we should do that,” Pharah suggested. I nodded. Fresh air seemed about what I needed right now.

\---

“Thanks for taking me away from things one last time,” Mercy told me as we walked down the path. My thoughts were going crazy in my head – all circling around the dinner conversation. If it was true that Mercy’s thoughts were buzzing like this all the time, I felt truly sorry for her.

“No problem,” I replied. “In fact…” well, this was not easy, “I was thinking about what you said at dinner.”

“What exactly?”

“About being confused. I thought, maybe you need help finding out what is pushing you off your course so much. Is it just that terrible extra load of work you had recently?”

She clasped her elbow with one hand as we walked, mulling over the thought. “Honestly… I have been confused longer than this.”

“Is it that game, then? If so, I will have a serious word with mum.”

She shook her head. “No. Longer… far longer than that.” There was frustration in her voice and her movements as she shoved her hands into her pockets.

My heart fluttered in my chest. These were the two things I had wanted to get out of the way as potential reasons – her work and the game. We walked for a while, both caught up in our own thoughts. The path took a turn along the cliff, then sloped down in a long wind towards the beach. It was a perfect thing for a walk that was neither too long nor too short, that was neither too boring, nor too strenuous for just a little outing. Mercy unpocketed her hands as the path tilted a little down the hill and she held on to the rocks for balance, until we got to more even ground again.

“Are you always confused?” I asked. “All the time?” My heart was pounding. I needed courage and I needed it soon.

“I guess so. Mostly at base. Sometimes on missions. I don’t know… maybe I am just overworked.”

I nodded, though I thought the reasons could be running more deeply. I did not even think she was believing herself when she said that. I lead her to the beach, not all the way to the water, but to the top part where there still were some rocks. I had one rock that I particularly liked because it was near flat on the side that pointed at the water.

“Mercy,” I said, stopping at the rock. “There is one thing that couples do that we have not done yet.” I hoped that this was anywhere near to what would be the right thing to do right now. I tried not to think to hard and just go with wherever this moment was taking me.

“Really now?” Mercy said with an air of confusion. “I would say we have gone a lot further than maybe we should have.” There was no bitterness in her voice as she was referencing last night. Rather, I sensed a cautious curiosity - likely because she really had no idea what I could possibly mean. We had done almost everything, indeed. We had shared long, deep conversations, we had kissed, we had been out together and we sure had had quite a bit of sex. There was not much further a couple could go, save on vacation. But there was one thing...

“True…” I agreed, “but…” I sat down at the foot of the rock, leaning my back against it. “Come here for a moment.”

She looked at me, her brows furrowed. “What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously, though she could not hide that my sudden change in tone and action intrigued her.

I held out my hand and just laughed. “Come on – I just want to cuddle,” I said, trying to sound good-natured and hiding how nervous I felt. “We can’t complete this game without that!” Of course we could very well complete the game without that, but in the end, I could give this a shot, right?

“Cuddle, huh?” she looked at me, a little unsure. “We really haven’t done anything like it,” she agreed. “Funny… considering… I mean... all those moments we spent sleeping next to each other and-- well... let's not talk about that...”

I kept smiling. "No, let's not," I agreed, still holding out my hand. "Come here, it's a cozy place. I sit here a lot - you can see the waves, the pier, the seagulls and sometimes the sundown when it is less cloudy." I told her. "It's very special that I introduce you to this secret place, you know? Not everyone gets that priviledge." In fact, only mom ever had.

She smiled, knelt down on front of me, but she was obviously confused as to what I wanted from her. I gently grabbed her shoulders and positioned her to sit between my legs with her back to me, pulling her to rest against my chest. Because I was taller, I could easily rest my chin on her shoulder. I pointed out at the sea, telling her to take a good look at the wonderful view.

She relaxed once we were settled and we looked out at the waves. I slipped my arms around her waist and just kept her close, crossing them in front of her tummy.

“Mh. Nice,” she agreed. The wind was playing with her bangs.

I put my cheek against hers and let my head weigh on her shoulders. She felt good – soft and warm and she smelled a bit like the ocean breeze itself. She laid her hands on top of my arms and we sat quietly for a moment, enjoying it. I could not allow this to be the last time I would ever be holding her. My heart would shatter into pieces after knowing how good this felt. What about her heart, though? How much of hers was in this moment and how much of it wanted to stay here?

I lifted my head, reached out and brushed her bangs aside a little placing them behind her ear so I could see her better. She did not shy away from the touch, only her focus dropped to the sand between our legs, away from the waves. She was beautiful and she seemed so utterly fragile in this moment. There were so many wonderful sides to her and it felt like I had just unearthed a new one.

I smiled and squeezed her gently, just listening to the waves and the sea gulls, waiting and lingering. I was not going to end this moment. And I was not going to push her, either. I was just going to let this linger, enjoy it and let her feel that I felt very comfortable like this.

Her thumbs were softly playing on my arms as she was overcoming her little fragile moment and returned to staring into the wide world in front of us. She had said her mind was always so full of thoughts. Now, she looked like she was struggling with those thoughts again, chasing them in her head. I let her. I think I had finally understood that after all the distraction lately, that part of her - that ever-contemplative part, that one that threatened to drown her in thoughts - needed a moment for itself. It seemed to me it was not good for her if she was so busy, she could not sit down and sort her thoughts. Now she had that chance - I had created that moment for her to do so.

After a while, her thumbs stopped caressing me and she held my arms close to herself instead, as if I could pull away any moment. “I don’t want this to end,” she said, producing a distinct jolt in my stomach and a smile from my lips.

“I don’t want that, either,” I admitted, speaking softly.

She smiled then, looking so shy and happy. I gave her another moment and then kissed her cheek. After all the struggle, it seemed surreal that this was all it had taken... that, in the end, the key to her heart had been just a quiet moment on the beach. But... maybe, the whole painful prerequisite had been necessary to lead to this outcome? One week ago she had, after all, made every impression that she was just doing this to get mum off her back and I had felt awful realizing that she really didn't care for anything else.

Now, the moment felt so sweet – fuzzy, warm… something like that. I could not describe it. Maybe, I should have felt elated or extremely nervous, realizing that just now, Mercy had agreed to _actually_ become my girlfriend… and that she wanted it. But I just felt so at peace. She was here, in my arms, leaning back against me and she was enjoying the moment just like I was, safe in the knowledge that this was not an end, but a beginning.

There was one more thing I was curious about. “Are you a little less confused now?” I asked.

She thought about that for a moment, realization dawning on her. “How did you know…?”

“I didn’t,” I admitted. “But I suspected it earlier when you told me about all this confusion. Most of all, it just gave me a little courage, I think.” I nuzzled her cheek.

Mercy frowned at that. “Ana knew, didn’t she?” she realized and there was the slightest vibe of anger in her voice. “This whole game… she set it up...” I did not want this right now – not in this moment. I wanted it to be happy and fulfilled and nothing else, but I could tell she was tensing up with how much this realization displeased her. She still did not want mum to win - to be right about her.

“I’m not sure,” I tried to appease her. “I think she just really wanted to push me into confessing to you, so I could either move on, or be with you. I think she was a little…uhm…” I struggled saying it – admitting to it was tough, but honesty was not only something that belonged in any relationship, it was something I also valued a lot myself - and I also knew that Mercy did. “…she was fed up with watching me watch you."

Mercy disengaged, gently, moving to shift her weight onto her thigh to be able to turn a little and look at me more closely. “You have...? Since when?”

I gave her a little guilty smile for the secret I had kept from her. “Since I was about seventeen. With maybe a break when you were no longer around.”

Mercy’s eyes widened at that. She obviously had not expected that answer.

“Please don’t be so shocked,” I laughed good-naturedly. “I am _really_ good at hiding things. Blame mum… I had to learn really well in order to _ever_ fool her – and half the time I still couldn’t. Certainly couldn’t fool her about how I felt about you.”

Mercy was still staring. She puffed out a breath, looking a little overwhelmed. “This is… a whole lot bigger than I thought it would be,” she admitted. I got worried that she meant to say it was too big to her – that my long-standing feelings were crushing her in some way.

I tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle. “Yeah. In fact, it’s a little catastrophe!”

That confused her just enough. “What do you mean?”

“Mercy. _We lost mom’s game_!”

\---

I groaned. “We will never hear the end of this, Pharah!” It was so true, too! 

Pharah smirked at me: “We could pretend that her little game has caused absolutely nothing and… you know… get together officially in like ten years or so." I loved the expression on her face. I had seen it before, but it’s a rare occurrence - a mischievous glint had always been more my thing than hers. I realized that maybe this sudden, loose demeanor was partially relief. If she had loved me for as long as she said she had - which made me nervous just imagining - my acceptance of my own feelings must have taken a quite burden from her. Unglaublich... I had never seen it in her, nor felt it in myself. How?

I tore myself away from my thoughts and tried to focus. “How about… seven months instead?” I offered, slowly scrambling to my feet. As much as I loved sitting here with her, it was getting a little cold in the breeze. I also could not sit here any longer... I needed to move - escape this new onslaught of thoughts and doubts and shock about Pharah's revelation.

“Why _seven_?” she wondered, dusting the sand off of herself.

“Well… anything earlier could still be too easily attributed to the game – but over half a year? Come on. We could easily fend off _that_ accusation.”

“I can’t believe you are still trying to win!” she laughed, shaking her head and grabbing my hand so casually. A little jolt went through me – she was my girlfriend now, for real. And we were holding hands… and it felt great. “She won already, you know? You could just admit she was right,” she teased me, knowing well enough that I was not ever prepared to admit Ana had been right about us.

“No way. Just think about what will happen if she knew. She’d go matchmaking all over the place and keep rubbing it into our faces. For the rest of her life.” I knew I had a point there.

“But I don’t know whether I can stand seven months without you now,” she replied and gave me a sweet hug from behind. My body tingled in all sorts of places. She had been so right ... all this confusion, this mindless seduction that even I felt had not been _like_ me...

I had been confused at base and on missions because _she_ was there. This game had stressed me so because I had been forced to deal with her being around me all the time - and the added stress from that extra workload had kept me from doing the kind of contemplations I should have done. I had snapped when she had tweaked the game because the feeling that she had betrayed me had hurt me more than an ordinary person could have. This entrie time - the intensity of my feelings - were an expression of something I had refused to acknowledge. And it had lead to unnecessary disaster in so many ways, no doubt. 

Why had I not seen it, though? Was it because Ana had nagged me so much before the game that I dug in my heels extra hard? Was I really that stubborn? And had she known - had she really, as Pharah said, just tried to get her to confess or had she seen it in me as well, long before I could? I could not stand the thought of her knowing me better than I knew myself. Of her stupid suggestions that I should go out with Pharah being anything but the ramblings of a desperate mother wanting to get her child a partner.

"I think your brain is going three hundred miles an hour right now," Pharah commented, looking at me. "I should be worried you _are_ contemplating staying away from me for another seven months just to make sure you win this."

Okay, so I really was _that_ stubborn. "Sorry... still trying to sort my head..." I apologized. 

"Must be quite a mess in there," she laughed, swinging our hands and slowly pulling me back towards the path. She was smiling and it felt good - she was trying to do what she had unintentionally done for the last week already: Distract me from my ever-rambling thoughts. I could not let her this time.

So I stopped, holding her back. My head was quite a mess. But for once, I knew what I needed. "Pharah... I can't- I can't deal with Ana like this. I know you think I just want to win the game... but..."

She turned towards me, grabbed my other hand and looked at me with a smile: "I understand, Angela... she can be quite the bulldozer, and if you are not too sure..."

"I _am_ sure," I assured her. "But there was pain and stress and anger and confusion involved in this. I am still confused - not about the same things, but I feel like I just stepped into a new world. It's all not as simple as she might make it out to be in front of us. And I don't think I have the confidence and strength right now to deal with her way of -- her..." I did not find a way to describe what I meant. Pharah just pulled me close and caressed my head.

"You don't have to explain it," she said. "You want time to get yourself sorted first before you deal with others - it's understandable." She kissed my forehead. "It pains _me_ to see you so lost."

I frowned. "It shouldn't. I have been so terrible because if my own-"

She stopped me short with a soft kiss. "Forgotten and forgiven." She threw a glance at the base way above us on the cliffs. "So... how are we going to deal with my mingling old hag of a mother?" she grinned. "I don't want to burst your bubble, but she is _insanely_ hard to fool. Trust me - I have years of experience."

I frowned, thinking. “You know, given the rules of her own game, she cannot ask too much. She said she would leave us alone if we win. And you can just say you are happy we have become closer friends or … maybe I turned out be so terrible, you totally got over your feelings.”

She laughed again, louder this time. “I can't pretend I find you terrible, but I’ll figure something out. For your sake – so you can win.” She smirked sweetly, assuring me that she knew full well that this was not exactly about winning now. Well, not only.

We made it back up the hill and properly disengaged our hands. We had, of course, lost track of our question-and-compliment thing by that point, but assumed that due to the talk we had just had and the upcoming night, the requirements would end up being more than fulfilled by midnight.

We snuck into the base all secretly and though it was difficult, spent a few moments taking care of our own things to not raise suspicion. Nevertheless, we retired early... and for the first time, I was excited and nervous crawling into bed with her. Within the course of very few hours, everything felt different. This morning I had sworn to myself I would not flatout seduce her again - that I had learned my lesson. This is night, I could not keep my hands, lips and eyes off of her.

It ended up being a lot different from the previous night. With the confusion out of the way and all feelings on the table, there was room for more than just lust. We took our sweet time, explored and loved each other intimately. There was much to discover – first and foremost the scratches I had unintentionally left on her back the previous night. Pharah was very amused by my embarrassment about them.

But then there were also birthmarks, muscles, the exact shape and taste of her breasts, the feeling of her behind in my hands. I might have grasped that same body part the previous night, but not fully appreciated it the way I could now. Thighs, lips, looks, words… my name spoken breathily with her voice… soft and loving kisses, in a way we had not shared before. Our night was as loving and intense as the previous one had been sexy and lustful. I savored every moment of what it should have been like the first time we had done this.

In the end, I was cuddled up with my back against her chest, her arm around me, grasping my hand on the mattress. She kissed my neck and cheek and planted sweet pecks on my hair. I fell asleep like that. Happy, warm and feeling that I was finally sure about something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please move on to the next chapter for the epilogue.


	10. Epilogue (Ana wins)

DAY NINE

“Good morning, Mercy. How was your night?” Ana refilled her teacup, her back towards the young doctor.

“Good enough,” she replied. “And before you ask: No, I did not throw Pharah out of my bed at midnight. I have some decency. But she has finally removed her blanket and pillow.”

Ana nodded, picking up the teabag by the string and pulling it through the water to make sure it got nicely soaked in the hot liquid. She returned to the table with her cup where Mercy was just finishing her cereal.

“So, just to be clear,” Mercy continued, looking at her. “Since your little game is over now, you will never ever nag me again about going out with Fareeha?”

Ana lifted the teabag and dunked it back in calmly. “Just as I said – never again.”

“And would you have the decency to admit that you were wrong, that the idea was silly and that you maybe should not have mingled?” Mercy asked with a demanding and still somewhat annoyed tone to her voice.

“I understand your friendship has grown, though?” Ana clarified.

“Yes, it has. And I understand a growing friendship was not your intention.”

The old sniper nodded. “True. I know when I have lost. I have no trouble admitting it. Congratulations, Dr. Ziegler, you have proven an old lady very wrong.” She was sure when putting it that way, that victory did not feel as sweet as Mercy had imagined. 

Yet, Mercy nodded, keeping her smile in check. That had been a lot easier than expected. If Pharah played her part right, Ana would be none the wiser.

“Good. Your decency is appreciated, Ana.” She picked up her bowl and put it away, then left the kitchen, her head held high, to get back to her work. She and Pharah would – accidentally – meet at lunch here later. Until then, there was enough work to do.

Mercy went outside to pick up the mail. She was expecting an official return letter for her evaluation of the medical procedure, though a copy had already been forwarded to her via email. Ana walked out onto the balcony, stirring her tea and watching Mercy as she crossed the path and looked into the mailbox.

She smiled as she took a sip from her tea. “You silly children,” she mumbled. “You walk hand in hand on the beach and yet, you think you can fool me.” She relished in the feeling of amusement, wondering whether this entire time, Mercy and Pharah had believed that for Ana, this was all about winning a silly game or proving them wrong.

Being the ever alert soldier she was, she did not miss the presence behind her, even though he hovered so silently as he approached.

“Ah. You seem to be in positive contemplation. What an elating sight,” Zenyatta mused, an air of peace surrounding his floating presence.

“Correct,” Ana agreed taking another sip.

“Joy and happiness have so many forms,” the calm omnic replied, coming closer so he was next to her and could look where she was looking.

Ana watched Mercy disappear somewhere below the balcony, bringing her letter inside. “One of the greatest joys in life is seeing your daughter happy, whether she is your own, or one you have adopted into your heart.”

“And which one of your daughters has put you in such high spirits today?” Zenyatta wanted to know.

“Both,” Ana replied with a gentle smile.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that by clicking "next chapter" you will end up on the alternate ending of this fic.


	11. Day Eight (Mercy and Pharah win)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is the continuation of the story if Pharah and Mercy win. If you want Ana to win the game, please refer to Chapter 9)
> 
> (If you have already read the other ending, note that this one starts the same. If you wish to go where the stories start to differ, I suggest you do a text search for “Are we still going to be close?” as Mercy will react differently in the ensuing conversation.)

DAY EIGHT

Every part of me felt both over-used and really relaxed. My muscles felt almost sore. Between my legs, I had that familiar feeling that warns you that if you move the wrong way, a cramp is inevitable. I turned in Pharah’s arm, finding myself in the exact same position I last remembered myself in - as if I had been too exhausted to even move in my sleep. A short glance at the alarm clock told me that noon had just passed.

Another short glance, this time at Pharah, told me that she was awake, too, but I could not read her expression. She was not smiling; she was not wondering… her dark eyes seemed unfathomable at best. Yesterday’s worry returned to me at that moment: If the quiet lasted too long, I would have to explain myself. Explain why I did what I did when I pushed my tongue into Pharah’s mouth, freed her of all her clothes in my hot need and did not give her even the slightest chance to deny me for hours. Only, I could not answer these questions, neither to her nor to myself.

And so I did what I had done for hours the previous night: I turned, crawled up to Pharah and started kissing her with obvious intentions. This time, I was sure she would reject me and demand an explanation, but Pharah – just like last night – simply played along. My touches excited her and while I reckoned her body had to be as sore as mine, she got wet and aroused so easily. What we ended up doing was not as much filled with teasing and experimenting as the previous night. This morning, our approach was straight-forward and lead to a quick, intense and shared orgasm.

After that, my body screamed for me to stop torturing it with sex. As much as I wanted distraction, I could do no more. I was sticky with sweat and other things, both old and new, and so was Pharah. I just did not know how to get out of the situation now and how the awkward rest of the day (or possibly our lives) would be.

I thought of the game… of how I had intentionally not demanded my noon kiss and then gladly taken Pharah’s invitation to kiss her twelve times in a row with a rather unexpected progression. The forced kissing had become the gateway drug to something much more intimate.

I glanced at the clock and realized that at this time forced kissing was officially over. Noon had passed us and there was no way I could claim we missed our noon kiss. We had just spent an orgasm with our lips firmly pressed against each other to quiet the sounds we were making. Last night might have been quite noisy, but at midday, people were awake to hear us and our mutual understanding seemed to be that we did not want to broadcast what we were doing.

“Mind if I shower first?” I blurted out. My desire to clean off the sweat had made the decision for me about how to get out of this moment.

She looked at me with an expression I could not quite read, but it was not a good one. I supposed that it generally wasn’t quite common that two people spend hours upon hours screwing each other silly and then go to the shower alone. But I could not suggest sharing. Maybe I needed that moment for myself, maybe I was worried who would notice we weren’t showering alone and wonder why. But most likely, I was worried that all the patient soaping would leave way too much opportunity to ask questions that I still could not answer.

“Go ahead.” Pharah replied, her voice not giving much away. “See you at breakfast.” She sounded friendly, but that was all.

I glanced at the clock. “Do you think it will still count as breakfast?”

She nodded. “I’ve had had late breakfast with mum before. She still calls it that.”

Oh right. This was _Ana’s_ game. I had nearly forgotten.

\---

I did not know what to make of this. We sat in the kitchen, wet, freshly washed hair and all, and ate cereal at nearly two in the afternoon. And she had not said a word other than asked me about showers. It drove me insane. I wanted to both know what the heck had happened to us last night and not know. Because the answer had a potential to break my heart.

This was the last day within a game that had gotten quite out of hand, provided we fulfilled our tasks. And what then?

“Compliment…?” I tried.

“You are fun in bed,” she answered. “And I mean that differently from the last time I said it, so it is a new compliment.”

Her answer left me even more confused. She was not pretending it did not happen, nor completely avoiding the subject, nor was she clearing things up about what exactly it had meant. I wanted to scream in frustration.

“What happened last night?” I asked blatantly, abusing the game to get some clarity.

“I don’t know,” Mercy answered, shaking her head – and her voice seemed so genuinely at a loss, I didn’t have anything to retort. It also hurt. ‘I don’t know’ was not ‘I suddenly realized how much you mean to me, Pharah.’ I had expected that, but it still hurt. Desire had happened, I supposed. And being the lovesick fool I undoubtedly was, I had grasped for that little piece of straw that had been offered to me.

“Do you agree that… this… that you started that?” I felt myself getting bolder, maybe a little angry. I did deserve some answers. Sure I had played along, but I had not initiated this.

“Yes,” she replied dryly. “I have. Do you agree that you were not opposed?”

There was a dangerous edge to her voice. I did not want to fight again – not after this. I immediately regretted my annoyance. “I have… How could I not? You are gorgeous, Mercy… naked even more so.” I blushed as I said it, but it was worth it, if it meant we would not get more irritated with each other.

She stirred her cereal, but she was not eating any. “We cannot tell Ana,” she said.

It gave me a sting – that was her concern, even at this point? Not admitting that this game had led to something rather close to what mum had anticipated?

“Pharah, do you want her to know – and then feel like mingling with other people’s lives is an okay thing to do? I realize you are not so concerned about winning this game, but do you understand the implication – the things your mother will do if she finds her weird ideas confirmed in whichever way?”

I sighed. “No… I know you are right…” I admitted. “Not to mention how she would rub her triumph under our noses - and I can think of way better stuff for my mother to tease me about than my sex life.” I had meant to say ‘screwed up sex life’. I could not possibly tell her how much worse it would be for me since mum knew how I felt about Mercy.

What I had really wanted to tell her, though, was that I wished this conversation would focus on something else, not the game - but I realized how easily it could be perceived as a snappy and angry answer, if I demanded it. And I did not want to fight, no matter what.

A part of me wanted to postpone the game again, prolong it for another day because I came to the realization that after last night, whatever I hoped would happen after the game was over, it wouldn’t be there. A friend of mine once claimed that sex destroys relationships. Maybe he was right.

How could I possibly mend this enough to not end up in a worse place with her than I had before this game? That place had not been bad, but not nearly as close as we had been before last night. “You… are really surprising. In a good way,” I admitted. “And…” I blushed a little, “really skilled.”

 _‘What the hell, Fareeha?’_ I scolded myself. _‘You want to mend things and you bring up the same awkward subject?’_

Mercy studied me. “I enjoyed it, too – thanks to your skill. It was maybe not the right thing to do for either of us, but I cannot yet regret it.”

There it was: It had been the wrong thing to do, and Mercy, being much less of a fool who’d run her mouth than I was, gave me an adult answer to our escapades: We did it, it wasn’t right, but it felt good.

Was this going to end up becoming some friends-with-benefits thing? Because those usually do end really painfully for the one who has feelings – and I started to understand why. If Mercy were to suggest that, I would not have the strength to say no, especially not after what I had seen the previous night - namely Mercy writhing and turning in the sweet ecstasy of her climax, repeatedly. I would want this – and I knew all she had to do was ask and I’d throw myself down that cliff to have something of her. And it would hurt because after every such meeting I would feel how she did not want me for anything else.

“I should go get some work done,” I mumbled as I got up. “It’s late enough as it is.”

“Okay. Dinner at seven. Maybe we can just take a walk after.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Was that it? Silence over a night of prolonged, repeated, horny passion? I tried to remember what I had felt like last night – about holding this moment forever, about wanting to show her how good I could make her feel. That thought did not seem to hold so much positivity anymore.

\---

The day moved on so slowly and I was so caught up in my thoughts. Yesterday night, things had felt strange already – every nerve inside of me had wanted this and my brain was constantly evading the thoughts of responsibility and the fragility of friendship and intimacy. But I could not evade that forever. Fareeha had been incredibly kind to me – she could have been kicking and screaming, demanding answers, blamed me for a seduction she had not fully agreed to, even though she had played along. She could have put all the blame on me, told me she felt used, asked me to never touch her again.

She had not done any of these things. She had also not claimed any responsibility. Maybe I should have been dissatisfied with that. It takes two people to sleep with each other and it takes more than passive agreement to have sex repeatedly, for hours, go to sleep, wake up and do it again. But I felt so incredibly guilty. Maybe because I was slightly older, maybe because I was still not in the clear about my own motivation or maybe really just because I had been the one sticking _my_ tongue into _her_ mouth and I had been the one taking her shirt first.

I also felt like I was the one who had broken this and the fact that as per the game’s rules we still had to get along for at least a day, was looming over me. But something that weighed on me much more heavily was that there would be a time after this game. And I was scared of what that was going to be like.

But there was still a dinner, an hour of distraction and possibly a moment in bed to come. I knew that I would not seduce her again this night, of course. Even I have the ability to learn from my mistakes. A day ago I had been calculating on using the game’s rules to get more kisses for the pure joy of it. I deeply regretted my selfishness now. Coming tomorrow, I’d be alone in my bed again. I had changed the bedsheets after the shower for obvious reasons. I could change them again the next day to wipe the memory of sharing that bed with Pharah, but that would be superficial at best. My bed would not ever be the same. Unlike me and other beds I have had, this bed had been a virgin to this day – and no one can erase the memory of a first time.

And even without the component we had added last night – I had eventually begun to feel elated to wake up next to Pharah. It had been the same feeling I had enjoyed when dropping my work to go to dinner with her or spend that hour off base. It was better than the life I had been satisfied with before because work had never let me go. My bed had always been perfectly lonely and content, not knowing what it was like to share. And now, I would lose this extra - and all the other extras – because after what I had done last night. Who knew how much distance we would need from each other. I had been such a fool for letting my lust dictate my actions and switch off my head.

There was nothing to be done now, not much, anyway. I had one small hope within me. A little ago we had just curled up in bed, talked about things we cared for and had enjoyed a good time. When we had watched the movies, I had even seen the benefit of interests not shared. Undoubtedly, these moments and feelings had been there, even if my other actions overshadowed them. But a couple of hours was not much time to undo the bad and remind us only of the good. My two options were to either try anyway, or purposely fail the game to gain more days – the latter being a choice which could easily backfire.

Maybe trying to fix this was a stupid thought, but I was not going to just give up. I decided that this was my last chance to make up for all the less admirable things I had done in the previous week – from my anger against her to the ravishing of her body.

I spent the afternoon preparing to cook dinner for us, but I found myself so indecisive. I did not know how to meet Pharah’s taste and I did not know which kind of food I was able to prepare well enough to impress anyone. I am not a bad cook in general, but I cannot exactly prepare a five-star meal, either. I browsed recipes for ages, eventually deciding to marinade chicken in orange juice with added greens and potato dumplings. Maybe not the most original choice, but I was pressed a little for time since we had gotten up so late.

The other thing I mulled over was how to act. I had already accepted the allegations during breakfast. And even now, I found it was not wise to pretend nothing had happened. Something had happened. But I was not able to contemplate it right. As so often lately, I could not place my feelings – and I was far from ready to go and discuss thoughts that I could not even finish myself with another person. The game demanded more compliments and questions and as I saw it, I had two options: I could refer to what had happened or not. I did not like either option.

At least, Pharah seemed pleasantly surprised when I called her over to eat. She liked the food and for a moment, there was a tinge of good things from before last night in the air. I wanted that back so badly and scolded myself for my thoughtlessness again.

“I have another compliment,” I began eventually, as our eating slowed down, thanks to being well-fed and happy. She nodded and looked up at me. My heart was pounding in the strangest of ways. I felt like whatever I would do or or say, it could potentially backfire and I had no way of predicting it. The ground I was walking on was too shaky for my comfort.

I steeled myself for whatever was to come. I ran my hand through my hair before I pushed the words out. “You are … pretty amazing. I don’t mean because of last night – I mean with everything we did. The talking, the being out together, even the movie watching, the food you made… but I— guess… I also mean last night,” I looked at the table. “I can’t pretend this did not happen. I can’t pretend I have answers for you. But I can tell you that I think a part of me got carried away because I had such a great time with you and realized what a great person I got to know in the past week.”

“Thanks,” she replied quietly, her cheeks a little red. “It’s okay, I suppose. We are adults, we get along well – we got carried away because, honestly, sometimes the lack of action can be a bit frustrating. I get it.”

Her answer was reasonable, and yet it did not ring right with me. Neither I nor any other sentient being mounts their friends out of sheer sexual frustration. And it did not feel like that was what had happened, either.

“I also have a question,” I continued.

“Hm?” she just asked and put her cutlery aside.

“Are we still going to be close?” It was, after all, my greatest fear.

“Close?” she echoed. “What do you mean by close?” she sighs in frustration. “I am trying to understand, I really am. But when I ask, you can’t give me any answers and now I don’t understand, either – do you mean are we going to be friends, do you mean are we going to continue having sex? What are you hoping for?”

  
I thought about this – I did not really know. But I owed her an answer of some sort. “I don’t think I am in a position to make demands…” I began. “But I can’t deny that I enjoyed both being friends and – well – how we worked together yesterday.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, understood,” she just said. I did not know what to make of it.

“Don’t get me wrong!” I clarified immediately. “I am not asking for anything. I am saying what would be thinkable for me.” What on earth was I doing? I did not recognized myself anymore.

“I’ll think about it,” Pharah replied stoically. I did not know what to make of that, either, but I also didn’t feel it was right to push. So I helped her clear the table and tried to think of something more useful to say.

“What would you like to do tonight, anyway, for an hour? It’s our last day together.”

Pharah leaned against the counter, crossing her arms and ankles. She looked at me. “Let’s just grab something to drink – someplace busy. Cocktails or something. And if we have time left afterwards, we can just walk back to the base. ”

I was saddened by the suggestion. It looked a lot like she just wanted to get this over with – and I could not even be angry with her. I was angry at myself, though – for not having been wiser in my actions. And I mulled over whether my suggestion had been too soon, too direct or too stupid. Maybe sometimes honesty wasn’t the best policy.

“Alright. I… think I will need another hour to get some things ready I need for tomorrow. You can pick me up afterwards."

“Sure.”

And with that, she left the kitchen, and I did not see her again until she picked me up for cocktails.

\----

For the next hour, I tried to distract myself with all sorts of things. Heck, I even cleaned my room – which turned out to be a terrible thing to do because it did not demand enough concentration of me to keep my thoughts of things.

Mercy had definitely suggested the exact thing I had feared and of course the rational decision would be to decline – to not even consider doing this to myself. Only, my heart kept intervening with all sorts of interjections. Why would I throw this away when the act itself was so good? Sure my heart would sting for not being loved back, but it was either that or nothing, wasn’t it? And who said that things would stay that way… who said that Mercy couldn’t change her mind in the future about what I meant to her? If I ended it now, I would never find out.

And then, of course, I scolded myself, knowing that every friend I have ever had would loudly scream _no_ at me. Only, all my friends from Helix and elsewhere were far away – they could not exactly stop me. But if I messed up things with Mercy, technically my best friendship at this base would be gone, too. But wasn’t it already? Why not get the last bit out of it that I could – even if the price was heartbreak? Wasn’t the heartbreak there already, anyway, at least almost? It was heartbreak with sex or heartbreak without sex. And the sex would include someone who was not only beautiful, sweet, sexy and everything I wanted in a woman... she was also really good at it. And yet, I knew that you are not supposed to do that and that there were reasons you should not. It might seem like it would make you happy... but in the long run, it's emotional torture. I knew all of that. I _knew_ it. And my heart was so very weak.

I got increasingly more upset because the moment of picking her up was approaching and I had not come to a conclusion how to answer. Yet, I had set myself a deadline – make a decision tonight. Because the truth was, after this game it would probably be even more awkward to bring up the subject ever again. And I couldn’t allow myself to go crazy about this for the next weeks to come. 

I decided to think about compliments and questions instead – trying to find something that was on safe ground, focusing mainly on Mercy’s abilities as a surgeon, the tidiness of her room and childhood dreams and aspirations. I regretted never having asked when she had found out that she was not just into men or boys, but at this point, it seemed like the wrong question to ask. And it did not matter. Nothing much mattered anymore – this thing had gone awry and might never get fixed, anyway.

When I picked Mercy up, I still had not made up my mind about her suggestion. I had chosen a busy place with lots of customers – it would be easy to get distracted by cocktail choices and the general buzz. To my relief, Mercy had the same idea about asking easy questions and making well-chosen compliments and while it was a bit disappointing to revert back to the safe-zone of complimenting and asking, it was ultimately what I had expected. It was like all my efforts to be closer to her in person had been nullified by one thoughtless night.

We did not have a bad time, though. It was a bit of a relief to feel we could still joke about the good parts of the previous week – such as small happenings like when a waiter at one of the dinner places we went to had an obvious eye on one of the customers and was acting all awkward about it. And of course other little things, like our movie shopping and watching and our pillow fight. And for a moment it seemed like it could be good again. Maybe. One day.

We did end up walking home. We both still had one question and one compliment left over. This time, I was aware that she, too, was saving things for the last moment.

I looked at her as we approached the base. The sun had set and the world was tinted in blue.

“Did you want to go to sleep before midnight?” I asked casually. I was very conflicted – I was not going to dictate Mercy’s sleeping time, but the difference was that before midnight, I was still kind of obligated to be in her bed (as I understood it). After midnight, I could well go back to my own room. And in the former case, the question was left open how or _what_ we would be in bed – companions? Sex partners? So far, I had neither agreed to anything nor declined anything and things would undoubtedly be incredibly awkward if we did not clear that beforehand.

Mercy had her hands in her pockets. “Would it be too much to ask – you know, like that one time when we were just in bed and talking? I want to end this on a good note.”

It stung me deeply in the heart. It sounded so much like we were breaking up when we had not even been together for real. But I caught her sentiment, if it was her true intention: We had enjoyed a great week with some setbacks. And if we were going to go back to the old ways, maybe the last memory of this should be a good one. That tired talk about the universe had been nice, intimate and yet harmless. It was a good sentiment to hold on to. I was not sure I could deliver, but I agreed anyway. Also… that last compliment I wanted to give her was still in my head and having a good moment with her would make it easier to deliver.

“Do I leave at midnight?” I asked.

“Only if you want.”

I sighed. It was so ambiguous again – was this a ‘You don’t have to get up and leave just because the game is over’ or a ‘We could repeat last night for the fun of it’. Worst, I still did not have an answer to the latter suggestion.

I opened the door for her as we entered the base. “Well… I’ll be there around eleven, I suppose.”

It would be just an hour. Not much time to get into anything if she wanted to have a good talk first. And after that, I would be free to leave, no matter what would happen. I wished so much that this hour would never pass...

 

\---

 

When Pharah arrived in my bedroom, I was already under the covers, reading a little. I had never paid close attention, but her preferred sleeping wear seemed to be shorts and shirts and every night, she had worn a different one. Tonight, her shirt said ‘For everyone. For all.’ – whatever that was supposed to mean.

I always wore the same night gown, except that after our activities one night ago, I had felt the need to stuff it into the washer and was now in a different gown and short pants myself, but while she was in printed cotton, I was in lace-framed silk. Somehow, there were so many aspects where we could not be any more different and yet, for a week, we had found aspects where we got along splendidly – and we had found that those where we differed did not really matter.

I put my book aside and, when she did not make any move to get into the bed, I scooted to the wall place where she usually slept.

“What are you reading?” she asked as she got in, took her covers and pillow from behind me and placed them on the side where I usually slept. I realized she was getting ready to leave later. I doubted I could hold her, if she really wanted to go. I wished I had known a way to tell her that I would not try anything sexual without her explicit consent. In fact, while it had come so easily to me to seduced her in such an uncharacteristic fashion for me, I now would not even have known how to begin it.

I focused on her question. “Oh, it’s called ‘Beyond the Moon’. It’s a bit of a strange story about a futuristic, dystopian world and some humans who are trying to escape the place their ancestors have destroyed and settle somewhere on a different planet. I am not even sure I like it,” I answered honestly.

She nodded. “It does not sound very realistic,” she noted, but her tone is friendly.

“No, it isn’t. I think it is more about the relationships between the people under these extreme circumstances. Extremes usually bring out the raw, unfiltered nature in people. I think the author did a good job capturing it.”

Pharah laid down, stiffly, next to me, on her back. I laid down as well, but on my side, with my head turned towards her. There was an uncomfortable safety distance between us and it felt nothing like that previous, nice talk.

“What do you read?” I asked to make conversation.

She shrugged. “Not much outside of manuals, survival tactics, technical documentation and mission reports,” she replied. “I have read some suspense stuff before and the occasional fictional life story.”

I smiled, honestly interested. “Why – what do you like about it?”

She shifted a little, her stiffness going away. “Sometimes it's just the realism that is in it, even if something dramatic or unusual happens. The fact that people in such books feel very realistic. And sometimes it is just... the depth beyond the words. Nothing can happen in action, but so much happens that is not said. Sometimes, it seems to be the stark opposite of my life.”

I nodded, listening and we eventually fell into easy conversation, just as I had hoped. Maybe not all was lost yet. Our topics revolved around books and entertainment and about culture, which we also related to the other, multinational members of Overwatch. I glanced at the alarm clock behind her.

I knew she wanted to get out at midnight, so when midnight was about to arrive, I said: “Before we continue our conversation – I have one more question and one more compliment to give.”

She turned almost instantly to glance at the alarm clock – then turned back, looking full of tension and slightly colorless. I did not understand what was suddenly upsetting her so much – but I regretted it. We had had a pleasant conversation until here and now, what? She was worried about what I would say to her? She had not been worried about that for a week. Or she was worried about how this would end? Wasn't she the one who was preparing to leave? All I could do was hope that realizing that my last contributions to that game would not be too bad would make her feel less worried. 

“First of all – I want to thank you. I had a great time this past week, despite some not-so-great things that might have happened. You have been an incredible help and what I valued most was your ability to take my mind off work when I needed it most. I never notice when I get way too preoccupied and it felt honestly so good to be taken away. I will try, in future, to hold on to that knowledge and prescribe myself frequent breaks. Thank you for teaching me that, even if it wasn’t intentional.”

She smiled a little, but she did not seem too relaxed. “As for my question… I barged in with things earlier today that I should not have. In Switzerland, we say that if we stumble into awkward situations like that, we walk right into a bowl full of fat. I have kicked several of those bowls lately – and I am sorry.” I honestly meant it. “I asked you about something somewhat unusual and intimate without clarifying what you think of such an arrangement first. Probably because I would never have dreamed I would ask such a thing before. And now, regardless of your answer to my suggestion, all I want to know is – do you think badly of me because of what I suggested?”

Pharah sighed, her lips thinning as she pressed them together. That did not look like the answer was going to be so kind. She also took a moment to think, even though the clock to end our game was ticking. “I generally do not think badly about people who do that. I also have never seen myself in such a situation… or you..." she hesitated, looking increasingly more uncomfortable. “I think I still owe you an answer to that suggestion, but it's not so simple... I need to clarify some things first.”

I nodded. That was fair – and I appreciated that she was not evading the subject, which could have been a perfectly reasonable option. And that she was not judging me because her moral compass might be pointing in a way different direction than mine often did.

“What I wanted to ask… it’s not unheard of that in such a situation…” she was fishing for words or for way to phrase whatever she wanted to ask. I could see her struggle. “Well, sometimes at some point, feelings might get involved. And that might be a problem for what you had in mind. _Potentially_. So- just to be clear – how would you handle the… occurrence… of feelings?”

It was an oddly phrased question and required me to roll it around in my head for a moment. The question itself was not too odd – it was a ‘what if I or you want more at some point’ kind of thing and actually pretty important. But in the end, she was right that it was more complicated than that and I could not give a direct, clear-cut answer, either. “I agree that that is not good. I have seen it happen before – with other people and it usually ends in pain. It also can’t be excluded. But… I guess… if something like that should happen, honesty is the key, no matter how hard that might be, or someone will get hurt." It was easy to say when it was all _potential_ , but playing the scenario in my head - maybe suddenly feeling more for Pharah - and then telling her when the benefits thing was rolling nicely... knowing that the only possible response could be to end things? But that, at least, I was sure of. "I think that such activities should probably not continue in such a case. That would be cruel and end in a certain disaster."

“A disaster,” she echoed. She scrambled to sit up and I noticed that she was breathing a little faster, seeming a little more restless. She glanced at the clock and I automatically followed her gaze. 11:59.

“Well…then I should probably leave,” she concluded. “You don’t want feelings in this situation and that is fair.” She swallowed, looking almost sick. “I can’t offer that…”

At that point, my heart was starting to pound, my throat tightening and I set up in bed. There were not so many ways this could be going and while Pharah did not give me much time to reflect, my brain was quick enough to catch on subconsciously - I finally understood what she was looking so nervous and prepared to leave. She continued – and as she did so, she got out of bed and started rolling up her sheets and taking her pillow, avoiding my eyes.

She glanced at the clock. “I always thought, since the game started, I should leave my greatest compliment for last. I thought a lot about what it would be over the past week.” She swallowed again and bit her lower lip and the brief glance I caught of her was full of regret and pain. I knew what was going to come and I did not want it to, but I owed her that I would listen.

“Well… I guess the biggest compliment that anyone can receive is that they are so great that someone has fallen in love with them.” She smiled sadly. She took a breath to say more, but then just turned, her sheet and pillow tugged into a bundle under her arm. “I—“ I could hear the strain in her voice as she faltered to say whatever she had intended to say. Instead, she threw a quick, half-choked “I should go” at me.

“Pharah, wait-!” I managed to bring out. I did not want her to feel this hurt, it was the only thing I knew in my state of shock. I had not seen it coming! A week so close to her, and I had not seen it coming, ever! A night of passionate sex - and I had not caught on to this!

She shook her head. Her back was to me. The hand that was not carrying her bedsheets lifted to her face as she walked out the door. The last thing I saw was her back before the door closed, then everything was silent.

I clasped my hand over my mouth, staring at the closed door, feeling both hot and cold with the full realization of what had just happened. I hurt terribly in empathy with her and I hated myself for being the cause - and for having made one choice after the next that would make it worse for her – from exaggerated anger that I had unleashed by purposely saying things to hurt her – to seducing her, having my way with her, in the most carnal and impersonal way anyone could desire and, last but not least, by suggesting it would stay that way. I had done  _everything_ I could possibly have done wrong in this situation. Because I had been too blind to see,  _despite_ Ana acting so weird about us. So many puzzle pieces were falling into place right now and they build a picture so gruesome, so unfair to Pharah, I wanted to scream at myself.

“Oh no... what have I done?” I whispered into the darkness.

\---

As I walked out the door, I could barely hold on to myself. By saying out loud how I felt for her, the harsh reality that I was not loved back hit me with cold, angry realization. Up to this point, I had lived in the small, miniscule hope that somehow things would turn out to be alright for me. But they hadn’t. The truth was on the table – and my broken heart had no reason to pretend otherwise. Mercy had not, in a total plot twist, fallen across my neck and confessed her undieing love for me. It had all happened as I rationally should have expected it would. Except for one thing: The pain was far worse than I had imagined.

The door clicked shut and the tears came instantly. I rushed to my room, covering my face. After hearing Mercy yell my name to hold me back, I was almost scared she could be running after me. I could not face her – she would pity me, and it would make the pain all that much worse. I dumped the bedsheets onto my bed and they lay there, on a mattress that had not been used for a week and looked so cold and uninviting.

I sat down, trying to hold on to myself, got up again, walked to the window, trying to swallow the sobs that wanted to come out. I stared at the door, scared that at any moment, Mercy could walk inside and see me in all my misery, putting shame on the pile of my emotions. I could not have that. 

With nowhere else to go, I stumbled across the hall, away from my room, my vision blurred so much, I was glad I knew the way by heart.

When I knocked on mum’s door, half-expecting her to be asleep, she opened almost instantly.

“Mum…!” I tried to begin my explanation, but the sobs just broke out of me, like the hurt child I undoubtedly was in that moment.

She did not say a word, just wrapped me in her arms and pulled me into her quarters. I soon found myself on her bed, clinging to her and sobbing like the fool I was, inconsolable and so incredibly heartbroken. It hurt. It hurt so much more than I had imagined. I felt so endlessly lost - because it was so clear to me that I couldn't just  _do_ something about this! I couldn't  _make_ love me - this was a dead end!

“Fareeha…” mom said soothingly, stroking my hair.

“She… Mercy—doesn’t--- we---“ I failed at bringing out even one coherent sentence.

“I know,” mum said, her arms tightly around me. “I know it hurts, child. But it will stop eventually, I promise.” She kissed my head like she had done so often when I was little. And I felt like just that kid, but with a pain so huge, it could not fit into the heart of a child. 

I could not imagine it would ever go away, like she said. I had never felt like this before. I felt so vulnerable and I just wished I could curl up, fall asleep and hide away from all the things I understood now, and all the feelings that hurt me so much. And yet, I wasn't naive enough to think there was a way to escape the heavy clouds upon me.

Mum was incredibly patient, holding me in her arms and letting my cry until her shoulder was soaked with my tears. She did not get tired of telling me she understood, that she was sorry things did not work out for us and that she knew for sure that it would stop hurting eventually. 

I protested, cried, said I would never be happy again because I just could not imagine. Mercy had been my dream for so long, I did not even know how to be without that dream, even though it had just been destroyed.

“Shh…” she whispered into my ear soothingly, holding me. 

Maybe I should not have run to her, of all people. Ultimately, she had set things in motion to end the way they had. I would never have found all these details I knew now that made the pain all the more intense: How many little, private things I liked about Mercy, how well I could get along with her, how much her anger could hurt me, how compatible we were in bed and – most of all – how she really did not love me back. The emotional roller coaster of the last week had reached its apex and then plunged down below the starting point – and the whole ride was crashing down on me, being too much to bear. And mum had put me on that ride. 

I should have been so angry with her. But she still was my mommy and I needed her comfort. And somehow, the truth was that somewhere under all the pain I was grateful to have gotten to know so many little things of Mercy. And that with or without mom's game, neither mine nor Mercy's feelings would have been any different. Mum had provoked this ending - but it had been inevitable. And she had first given me a whole week of Mercy with all her little flaws and gestures and thoughts and antics. It was so good to have had this ... and all the more painful to have lost it. 

Mum eventually pulled me under her blanket, holding me and caressing me until my sobs had turned to repeatedly hitching breaths, my body evidently too dry to produce more tears. The pain was still there, even though I was exhausted. I wanted to fall asleep and not have to wake up, especially being forced to share the base with the very source of my heartbreak. How would I ever be able to look at Mercy again? I had not even thought that far when confessing to her.

Mum let me, her 32-year-old daughter, stay with her that night and she was there for me until I was asleep, oblivious to a world that had been so unkind to me today.

\---

I was upset, unable to sleep, my mind on Pharah and how she had to feel right now. It is of course nobody’s fault when they become the target of someone’s feelings – but I had done worse than that. So much worse. Arguably, I had not been aware of it, but I had stomped on that good heart of hers, kicked it and mistreated and finally stabbed it to make it bleed. And I should have noticed. Or at least considered it. 

I wished so much I could just decide to love her and undo this. But you cannot just decide to love anyone. I wished I could go and apologize, but it would not help her – possibly the opposite. I could not both be her friend to comfort her and the reason she was this hurt.

I debated what to do – I could not just stay in my bed and read or go to sleep like nothing had happened. I thought of seeking out Genji, the closest thing to a friend that anyone like me could possibly have, knowing he would be there for me, but getting comfort for myself was not going to help Pharah. And she did not have a connection to him that would allow him to comfort her.

But I knew who could help Pharah – I knew only one person who could. I grabbed a robe and put on some socks and rushed down the hall to find Ana, hoping dearly she was still awake, despite the late hour. Someone had to be with Pharah right now and it could not be me.

I got ready to knock, standing in front of her closed door… when I heard Pharah’s unrestrained sobs. My heart shattered for her right there – the noises I picked up through the door were heartbreaking. How could I make anyone cry like that? I leaned against the cool wall, masochistically exposing myself to the damage I had done, and slowly sank down to the floor. I heard it all - her crying, her desperation.. I heard it when Pharah tried to tell her mother what had happened and sobbed out my name unable to say what I had done to her.

And while I could not understand what Ana was saying in return, her tone was soothing and soft. I was so glad Pharah had her to go to, but so incredibly sorry for her need to go confide in her in the first place. I pressed the back of my hand to my lips and nose and silently cried along with Pharah.

It seemed to take forever for her sobs to subside. I sat there, my hair disheveled from my hands running through it repeatedly, my cheeks raw and salty from my tears and at a loss as to what I was supposed to do now to decrease the damage and take her pain away.

I nearly jumped when the door opened and Ana stepped out. I had not paid attention to what was happening in the room again - to the slowly developing silence of Pharah calming down or having run dry.

I half expected Ana to drag me away from her door and give me an angry lecture about hurting her daughter. But she did not.

“Child. Get off the cold floor,” she said, sounding almost pitiful. She held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll make us some tea.”

“But Pharah…”

“She is asleep. And exhausted. She will be okay for now.”

Like a young, helpless child, I followed Ana into the kitchen. The lights were too bright, and I was aware I looked absolutely dreadful. I self-consciously combed my fingers through my messed up hair and wiped my cheeks, feeling very clearly that it was not helping my looks much at all.

Ana set a tea cup in front of me and I sat there, staring at it, feeling terrible.

“I did not want to hurt her…” I whispered.

“But you have,” Ana pinpointed mercilessly. “You can either run away from that or you can deal with it.”

If only I knew how anyone 'dealt with this'. And Ana did not have the full picture, either - the whole extend of what I had done to Pharah. She might have picked up on the anger – she might even have picked up or heard that something else had happened between us – something far more intimate. But she could not possibly know how I had topped it all off by suggesting repeated, casual sex with Pharah, thinking it could be a pleasant arrangement. How I had rammed the last nail into the coffin of her pain.

Ana sipped her tea and waited for me to talk. I did not know what I could possibly reply to her. “I am so sorry. I don’t even care what you intended with this game, I made some terrible decisions… and she is so hurt. And I don’t know how to help her.” I looked up at her, stupidly hoping she would have some magic answer for me. Ana always had advice, after all. And she knew Pharah very well.

“I don’t know that either,” she replied, singlehandedly crushing all my hopes. “You made you decision about her and about you two. Now you both need to accept reality and learn to move on.”

But had I made a decision? What kind of decision was I even able to make in this situation?

“That is not fair,” I heard myself replying with an air of stubbornness. “I did not ask her to like me, I did not ask her to sleep in my bed and spend time with me – you did.” I felt myself getting angry – and even more so when Ana just continued sipping her tea so undisturbedly. “Was this what you intended?”

“Not entirely. I did intend for her to tell you how she feels. She has been carrying this for too long without you paying much of any attention to her. I admit that I did not expect her to come out burned, broken and in pieces.”

My heart started pounding again, feeling her accuse me with every word. “I did not want this!” I repeated. “I did not ask for this! And I had no idea! You can’t just blame me like that!”

“I am not blaming anyone, Angela. I am saying how things are.”

I snorted angrily, suppressing any tears.

She gave me a pitiful look from her one intact eye. “You are the one angry at yourself, not I.”

I snorted again, this time because it pained me how she was right about it.

“And you are also very hurt, child, even though you are putting her pain above yours right now.” She nudged the mug closer to me. “Drink.”

I took an obedient sip, mostly because I did not want to respond. I had no right to be hurt – I had done all these stupid things and all Pharah had done was keep her honest, personal feelings from me – which she had no hand in developing in the first place. Nobody had hurt me, but I myself. So what if I was hurt? I probably deserved it.

 

She got up with her tea and walked past me, slipping an arm around my shoulder from behind and hugging me to her chest in such a sweet, motherly gesture – you would not think I had just badly hurt the person most dear to her. She gave me a kiss on my disheveled hair. “Finish your tea, go to sleep. Tomorrow the world will look a little differently and maybe you can think straight again.”

I sniffed, the tears coming back. I did not deserve her motherly kindness, either. 

\---

(Continued in Chapter 12)


	12. Day Nine and more (Mercy and Phara win)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((This is the continuation of Mercy and Pharah winning the game. Please refer to Chapter 9, if you want Ana to win.))

DAY NINE

Mum woke me with a nudge to the shoulder, then noisily set a teacup on the bedside table. Because of where I was – mum’s bed – memory and pain came back to me instantly. I curled to my side, hid my face in the blanket and turned my back to her. I didn’t want to go anywhere.

She grabbed my shoulder. “Fareeha, you will not stay in bed all day and dwell on your pain, understood?” she said in that tone that I knew from years back – a tone that allows no retaliation. But I wanted to retaliate – because going outside, meant I would undoubtedly run into Mercy and I could not take seeing her. It would be outside looking the part of someone who had cried half the night and barely slept, and everyone would see.

“I have arranged for you to accompany Reinhardt onto a small mission.”

“No… mum….” I protested. I did not want to go out there into the world. I did not want Reinhardt to see me like this.

She took the blanket from me, making me feel cold because of the wind coming in through all the windows she had opened. I curled up a little more, already knowing it was not going to work.

“Fareeha – out of bed, now!”

I slowly sat up, dreading the fact that I had to face the day. She put the mug in my hand and I drank like it was medicine (which mum undoubtedly thinks all tea is). Then, upon her command I got ready for my mission, like a school child that knows it inevitably will end up in a class room later that day.

I did not run into Mercy before I left and I knew why mum had offered my help to Reinhardt of all people – she knew how much I admired him and that his can-do attitude was always affecting those around him. He was also empathetic enough for me to have to really pull myself together, just as mum expected me to. I think he noticed that something was up anyway, but did not say anything. He merely let us finish the mission over a glass of beer in a pub and told me very vaguely that good and bad days are part of life.

The mission did take my mind of things – exactly from the first moment I stepped outside of our base to the moment I returned. After that, it was like it had not helped at all and everything came crushing back to me full force. The familiar environment, the computers that probably had Mercy's handprints all over them, the weapons and suits she had helped develeoped. This was Overwatch - 'Mercy' was just everywhere.

So I either hid myself away or made sure I was always either busy and ready to excuse myself to run away at any moment. I hid in my room, in the hangar with my Raptora suit, or I ran around unloading a truck and running errands for other members of the team. And yet, my heart constantly wondered where Mercy was. I told myself that was because I wanted to avoid her, but that was not true.

After that, a vicious, angry circle began. I was stressed from avoiding her and wanting to see her at the same time. I could not stop remembering the terrible night I had confessed and the subsequent realization that I was powerless against her lack of feelings. All of this deprived me of sleep, robbed me of my concentration and made me feel heavy and dull. It started making me look so battered, my team mates begun asking me whether I was okay. I cried myself to sleep every night, woke up at odd hours, dragged myself out of bed way too late in the morning and then failed at truly enjoying what I was doing, even though being part of Overwatch was what I had always wished for. Well, that and Mercy.

I wanted to get out of this lost feeling so badly, but I could not.

 

DAY FIFTEEN

When Pharah told me in her list of questions, compliments and answers that she knew she had been truly in love, I had thought it had been in the past, done and dealt with. Now I realized she might as well have meant me and all her fear when I asked her about this mysterious love-interest of hers suddenly made a whole lot more sense. Of course she had asked me to be able to opt out of this question if the answer was _me_.

What a fool I had been for not seeing it. Over the next few days, I was all lost in my past actions and their effects, mostly reminding myself of all the things I should have done differently, all the hints I should have seen and all the questions I should have asked instead of the ones I had chosen. My head was running an ongoing list of all my failures and it was incredible, how many accumulated over the hours I spent thinking of them.

I had felt so uneasy talking to her about whom she might have loved – and I had attributed my uneasiness to feeling angry at whoever would not have given a great person such as Pharah a shot with them. Now _I_ was this exact person and everything looked different. It did not matter that I liked tanned, dark-eyed, strong women – enough to have gotten insanely turned on by this one - I had done unspeakable things to hurt her and it was  _me_ who did not deserve her and  _she_ who did not deserve anyone so foolish and cruel. I was not good for her and maybe she would do best getting over me quickly.

Whenever I saw Pharah – only ever so briefly – in these days, her eyes averted immediately and she made sure she got away without speaking a word to me. She looked dreadful – bags under her eyes, folds and creases formed by worry on her beautiful face. She looked a little pale, a little hunched – the doctor in me would have dragged her into my office to make sure she was healthy – but I already knew why she looked the way she did, so there was no need to put her through the torture of having me, the cause of all this, check her vitals.

Other people approached me (and I am sure Ana as well), asking whether we knew what was up with her. Obviously, they had all seen Pharah and me get along so splendidly lately and assumed as her friend, I would know. Out of respect for Pharah’s privacy I told everyone not to worry and to not bother her – implicitly telling them that something was wrong but that it was none of their business. Soon, people caught on that the friendship we had shared recently seemed to have flown out of the window and, in short, that whatever falling out she and I might have had, it was the cause for her misery. It made me feel even more guilty. It was like I had broken the family’s favorite child.

Ana had told me not to run away, but deal with this. But how? I had severely hurt Pharah through my blind and stupid actions and I hated myself for it. As for the first time – I was so worried I would only hurt her more if I forced my presence upon her or said anything to anyone else without her consent. Approaching her to deal with this in any way would run the risk of hurting her more. She deserved better - and i deserved less than selfishly putting my mind at ease by something stupid like offering a hollow apology for not asking her out.

But in a way, maybe Ana was right: This had been going on for days without any sign of improvement, and I was doing nothing to fix it for Pharah, either. I was running away and so was Pharah. I was also assuming there was nothing I could do to fix it - or that if I try, the risk of hurting her more would be unacceptable. But I did not know for certain – I was just lost and awkward, but I had tried absolutely nothing to change anything. And Pharah was still hurting a lot, obviously, and that was the worst. I started to feel that just by existing in her vicinity, I was making everything so much worse. That was absolutely not what I wanted. 

Maybe I just needed to go? I was still skeptical about Overwatch anyway... maybe my time here was just over. But I knew I could not just leave... not without an explanation.

So, I forced myself to go to her room that one night and knock on the door. It was late – it had taken me a while to find the courage, after all. So it was maybe not surprising that Fareeha did not answer my soft knock.

I gently pushed down on the door handle and found her room was not locked. But it was dark. Maybe she was asleep already or not in. I was about to say her name, when I heard her – her soft, muffled sobs against her pillow. My heart seemed to cramp – she was still crying over this even though it had been a while now. My heart felt so heavy. I was so aware that I was the cause of this.

I could have run away then, told myself I was doing it out of respect for Pharah’s privacy and dignity. But I knew I would be lying to myself. So I took a breath and entered, closing the door quietly behind me.

“Fareeha…?”

“No… go away,” was her immediate response, somewhere between begging and crying.

“I am so sorry…” I said, walking over and sitting on the bed next to her. I reached out and started caressing her shoulder and side while she had her back to me and her face hidden in her pillow. She did not throw me out or tell me to leave again, she just let me comfort her – even though I was the reason she was so upset in the first place. She did not cry so audibly anymore as soon as I was close. She sniffed, her breath caught a couple of times, but else she was silent. Caressing her came naturally to me... I felt so heavy, feeling with her.

After a long while of caressing her like that, I gently tugged on her shoulder, asking her to turn around in perfect silence. She followed the tug, turned around curled up on her other side, around the spot where I was sitting so she would not have to show me her face. I reached out and caressed her hair and her head and eventually laid down next to her, pulling her into my arms when I felt it was maybe a good moment to do so. She did not reject me.

Instead, she laid her head against my chest and started crying silently again, just the occasionally sniffing giving her away. She had given up, completely, on pretending she was somehow handling this. I held her, comforted her and thought about what I could or should do to not leave her alone with the pain I had caused. But it was so difficult... there was no recipe for this.

“I don’t know what to do, Pharah…” I said eventually and her crying halted for a moment. She was listening. “I never meant to hurt you like that. All I can think about is how I want to undo this, but can't.”

Her hand grabbed my shirt, grasping the fabric in her hand. It was the only reaction I got to my words.

“I’m so worried that with whatever choices I make, I will hurt you more. I thought about going elsewhere for a while maybe, so you could recover.”

He hand reflexively tightened on my shirt as if to tell me she wouldn't let me go. But maybe it was just an expression of the pain she felt.

“I thought about trying everything to rekindle our friendship,” I continued, “even though I could not think of a good approach on how to do that… and I could never tell whether it would be even harder for you.” I could do nothing but be honest, let her take part in my thoughts so she would know I cared and was honestly worried about not doing anything to make this worse.

I gently kissed her hair. “And then I thought… if I asked to be stationed elsewhere, you'd deserve an explanation. If I wanted to know whether rekindling our friendship would just hurt you, I should ask you, not assume so. I should not make decisions on my own again that might backfire… or just do things you cannot understand because I don’t explain them.” I had made that mistake with her too often already.

I kept caressing her, trying to speak softly this entire time. I did not expect her to answer or say anything, so I took my moments to pause, carefully considering my words before I spoke them.

“I thought about all the things I could do and always found myself imagining that I would come to you – maybe like I did tonight – and tell you I made a decision and explain it. But I cannot and I did not do that. I can only come here to ask or to offer or to suggest and maybe help us both make a decision,” I whisper, running my hand softly and soothingly over her back. “I can't figure out the right thing... I can go away, if we both think it is best for us. I can try to be your friend, maybe even help you through this. Or… if you want to… if you think that is okay for you… I can give you an honest chance with no promises, but also no obligations.”

“What do you mean…?” She finally spoke to me.

"I don't mean to say I-- this is so difficult,..." I struggled. "You are a wonderful person - anyone would be lucky to have you and I am the fool who rejected you in the most cold and dumb way possible. I regret it, Fareeha. But some part of me thinks, while I finally realized the mistake I have made by not pulling you back and keeping you with me, I may have reached a point where it's too late. Where the best thing for you might be to cast me out of your life, move on and find someone more worthy." It became so much more clear to me as I was speaking. I had come here with the intention of telling her that all she had to do was say the word and I would leave. And now, my stupid mouth and head did something else entirely - and they were right. I was a total idiot for not immediately giving this a chance - and now I had messed it up again so much that I did not deserve she would give  _me_ a chance, possibly at her own expense. 

I took a deep breath. "I don't deserve you, Fareeha. And you deserve someone better." I was still struggling with what I was trying to say - still so worried I could make it sound wrong because if it did not really make sense to me, how could it make sense to her? "And at the same time... I want you to be happy and it would be such a gift if I could be the one who makes you happy."

She sniffled and said, very clearly and sadly. "But you don't love me, right?"

It stung, but she had every right to ask. "I don't know. I don't think so. I --- it sounds so weird -- but I really wished I did. My head says I have every reason to and I would beg you, if that made any sense, to win my heart, if you can." I think that was the gist of it. I was confused, but I did not feel  _that_ kind of elation... and yet, I knew what a great person she was and how good it felt to be around her. It all made no sense. "I'm an idiot. I can't sort this in my head - all I know is that you are wonderful and I am so stupid for not knowing how to handle any of this." Now I was turning this again unintentionally - making it all about me, when she was the one who got hurt. "I'm sorry!" I apologized again, so incredibly lost. "This is about you, not me. Not about the idiot I was and still am."

\---

"You are not an idiot," I sniffed, resting my face against her shoulder. It was maybe the first time I finally noticed that while I was all occupied with how much I was hurting, I had not stopped to think what was going on in her mind. I could not just assume she had been okay with rejecting me. _I_ would not have been... I cared too much about her and I knew she cared too much about me to not be affected. But this now seemed just as confusing as she had indicated. 

"Mercy..." I tried to make sense of this as much as she did. "Ignore my feelings for the time being... what do you want?" I did not know from where I took the strength to ask that.

She hesitated. I think I had known while asking that she would. She either did not know or she did not want to say it. And yet, I was at a point where I had contemplated my own pain so much, I knew exactly where I stood. I just wanted any chance to hold her, hug her and kiss her. I would even have taken that dumb game back for another week, if it had been possible. It was pathetic and lousy, but it was exactly how my mind worked at that moment. I would have begged her to love me, if there had been the slightest chance that begging would help in such a situation. "Please, Angela..." I added softly. "Just tell me. I'm going crazy with all this vagueness...!"

She took a deep breath. "If I knew," she replied. "I think... I think I want a chance to fall in love with you. But it sounds so stupid. I should already be."

I slipped an arm around her and pulled her close, my eyes stinging. "I don't care. It can sound as stupid as it wants." I pushed my face against her shoulder and forced my other arm under her, hugging her tightly to myself. I did not want to let her go, not again. She hugged me back.

"Can we ... maybe try this again?" she asked eventually. "Carefully...? Not barging in with a game and tearing down all boundaries?" She sniffed briefly. "You are too precious to hurt again."

I nodded, kissing a salty cheek. How could I ever have resisted? Maybe it wasn't real, but it was more real than the entire previous week. It was her offer to me and her words were the sweetest anyone could give to someone they did not love back.

I grasped her then, pulling her close, kissing her lips, trying not to think about how she might feel. Maybe she was already regretting this? What did it feel like to be kisses and loved by someone you did not feel the same way about? Could she even enjoy it... or did she just let it happen and played along? I almost feared she might already rethink her decision just because I poured my love over her in kisses and touches.

I looked up, expecting her to suffer from the attention I was giving her - but she was smiling, her lashes still a little wet. "Please don't hold back..." she begged me. "You are so wonderful just being yourself. Don't filter it." She kissed me on the lips, softly and sweetly, initiating it. I could not have fought it - she felt so soft and gentle and my heart was doing somersaults in my chest.

She eventually ended the kissing, no excessive touching, no sudden horniness. She just pulled back, very softly and laid her head against my shoulder, her arms tightly around me. And I realized that with everything we had done the previous week - however far we had gone - this was something new. We had not cuddled or held each other. The closest we had come to that was that exhausted moment after our prolongued night of sex, where we had just passed out with her sleeping on my arm. But that had been pretty meaningless. This now... her soft caresses and calm breathing right by my ear were something completely different.

She shifted, laying a leg comfortably between mine.

"Is this okay...?" she asked.

I nudged her cheek. "You don't hold back, either, okay?" 

She nodded and settled comfortably in my arms. She was caressing my back and my hair and we laid like that for a long time, our minds and hearts calming. She felt so much closer than she ever had to me before. After a while, she shifted again, turning a little more to her back, sending a long look at me before closing her eyes. I realized she was getting ready to just sleep while holding me. My heart felt like it was going to burst. I had her in my arms and she was holding on to me in return. Mercy did want this. And no game, no pretend play in the world could have given me the moment I had now.

I ran my hand through her hair, feeling her weight against me and reminded myself that this was real. She was in my arms in a way that only her free will could have made her do. She had chosen this place so close to me, instead of getting up or disengaging. And when I softly called her name to see whether she was still awake, there was no reply. She slept, wrapped around me, trusting me and letting me hold her. I was amazed... and so thankful for the extra chance I was getting.

It only left the question whether it was possible to just win anyone's heart, if you were given the chance to try.

\---

For me, the best sign that maybe I had made the right decision was that for the third time in a short period, I woke up not feeling grumpy and annoyed. I woke to the feeling of Pharah next to me, an arm draped around me, breathing calmly and it made me smile. I had sent her through a roller coaster ride of emotions, hurt her in so many ways, but I was on my way to mending it. And content with it, though I did not know how to convey this to Pharah. Every part of me was in this relationship, except my stupid heart.

Wasn't that normally the other way round? The heart would desire and the head would say no? Now here my head desired and my heart did not care that extra bit that I expected it to. But maybe all that business about love was, in the end, just hormones and dreams. Life was not a story or fairy tale. There were tons of humans out there, compatible with each other with a huge potential for happiness. If I didn't think I had a huge potential for happiness with Fareeha, I'd be out of my mind. After this week, I could not deny it.

Now my biggest desire was to make Pharah understand that I did want this and that she did make me happy. Yet, when she woke and blinked at me, she did not speak. She scooted closer and wrapped me in her arms, holding me tightly, as if I could vanish or run away. I kissed her hair. "Good morning, girlfriend," I greeted her.

"That sounds so nice...!" she mumbled. "I hope it's not a dream."

I kissed her head again. "It is not. I'm all yours, okay?"

"That sounds even nicer," she sounded relaxed, but when she looked up at me, I could see the faint tint of worry in her eyes... or maybe even fear. I could not help but understand - I had hurt, disappointed and mistreated her too much lately, I would not trust myself either.

I kissed her forehead, her cheek and her nose, swiftly, happily, trying to put all my elation in there which was easy enough to find. After all, I was with someone very special. But I could not kiss the worry away. It lingered in her gaze.

"Pharah..." I adressed her softly, and she tried to smile and not let me see it.

"Yes?"

"This is not a game anymore. I want this. You make me happy. I am so incredibly fortunate to be loved by someone this great - and every part of me knows that." But even as I spoke, I heard it in my own words - how I did want to make her feel worth it, but could not say 'I love you'. She had to catch that, too. But she smiled, regardless.

"I am the fortunate one," she clarified. Her words were followed by a pause in which she was looking at me, thinking. "Mercy..." she took a deep breath. "Still... can we keep this between us for now? I'm sorry if it sounds weird... just... I don't think I can deal with everyone's expectations right now... if that makes any sense to you." I did make sense to me - it wasn't my first time in a relationship after all. Once you announce yourself as a couple, people treat you like one entity... like you always have to know what the other is up to, you can't be invited anywhere alone and questions about the future or other plans can turn into making you feel pressuered. Not to mention how Ana would be all over us, probably celebrating a belated triumph. That would probably have been her right, but it would put us under even more strain.

"Just - this is new and fresh and I'm worried... that..." Pharah struggled with the words.

"That I could change my mind any day now?" I helped with a sigh.

"That is not what I said..."

I kissed her forehead. "I know, Pharah. I know it all feels very fragile. I get it." I gave her a smile. "I won't run. You have no idea how happy you are actually making me." She did make me happy. I was not in this for pity or for her sake. I was in this because I would have been a fool not to be! Pharah was an amazing woman with too many good qualities to count, beautiful, sexy, smart and dedicated. Why would I ever ask for more, love or not?

"Sorry," she apologized again, her voice low and quiet. "I'm just still trying to grasp this." She was seeming so meek - almost shy. It was a whole new, adorable side of her. I felt like for once in this relationship, I had done something right.

DAY TWENTY-FIVE

Being with Mercy was so _different_ like this. It was nothing like the game we had been coerced into, nothing like our friendship before and during that game and certainly far, far away from the heartbreak I had suffered. The difference was of course that there were no rules other than 'keep it secret' and everything else came from either her or me. She kissed me when she wanted to, not when the clock dictated it - and in the way that felt right to her and me at any given time. Sometimes I'd get a surprise peck on the lips and sometimes she'd snatch me for something more intimate, shutting us in a room.

My heart was soaring - she turned out to be an utterly adorable, loving and sweet partner when she was giving herself freely. Everything was different. She included me in her plans, joined me halfway through dinner, suggested activities and crawled into my bed when she felt like it - be it for kissing, cuddling or sex. And all of that was different, too. She still had that disturbing, frustrating skill of working me up to utter horniness and then delay any further activities until she had to work me up again. But asides from that kind of teasing there was also that utterly loving sweet kind of lovemaking that we had not shared before. I got to admire her body and pour all my love into our actions - freely, fully and without worry. And I did, of course. I wanted to make her feel as loved as she was in those moments - and afterwards, when we held each other. It was so idiotically corny - like one of Mercy's romance movies - and I loved every moment of it.

Yet, I only whispered "I love you," whenever she was asleep. I did not want to pressure her into answering... and I did not want to learn that she still could not say it. It was not the most important thing because if she had convinced me of anything it was that she honestly enjoyed us being together. _She_ seeked _me_ out in the middle of the day just to give me a hug (always checking over her shoulder that no one was watching) and _she_ told _me_ that she had missed me before I could when work had separated us for a day or two.

My worries fell apart and that fragility I had felt at the beginning started to fade away. Mercy was mine. It was an incredible miracle that she was - but she was _mine_.

 

DAY THIRTY-ONE

"This shall be quite a struggle," I sighed, pulling my blouse a little down. "Are you sure you want to keep keeping this a secret?"

Pharah nodded. "A little longer, I think. I kind of like having you all for myself without anyone's eyes upon us. _Especially_ mum's. Who knows - by this point she might be showering us in pamphlets about artificial insemination so she can have a grandchild to coddle."

I laughed at that. Alright - so even though we were taking Ana out for her birthday, this relationship would stay a secret. I respected that wish, though I had the feeling that Ana would really have liked that particular birthday present. Instead, getting invited for cake with her 'two daughters', as she sometimes put it, would have to do.

So we went to a small, fancy coffee shop, each of us an arm hooked into hers, keeping our focus all on how much we cared for her. We put all health concerns aside and ordered huge pieces of sugary cake, tea for Ana and Pharah and coffee for me. 

"That cake is delicious. How have I not been here before?" I commented halfway through. "Imagine what they might sell in _actual_ French pâtisseries."

"Oh, look at the smartypants doctor, speaking French and all!" Pharah laughed, enjoying her chocolate cake.

"I said _one_ word!" I protested. "But I _am_ from Switzerland, Fareeha. Learning French is kind of part of the deal. That's like me being surprised you speak Arabic. Well, kind of. Almost." I kept changing my mind about that comparison, though: "Not quite, but close... sort of."

"Not really," Ana cut in. "Fareeha's Arabic is atrocious." 

"Mum!" Pharah snorted. "It's just- the world is a little more international these days, okay? And I _do_ speak Arabic!" 

Ana smirked, said something in Arabic to her daughter and it made Pharah blush. I _really_ wondered what that could possibly have been. Even moreso, when Pharah responded in a shocked and defensive tone (from what I could tell when they shared this unfamiliar language) and it made Ana smirk and swiftly reply something. 

"That is not true," Pharah mumbled in English and quickly stuffed a large piece of cake into her mouth. 

_"Hey!_ " I protested. "Care to include me?"

Pharah chewed, swallowed and sent me a guilty little grin. "Sorry, Mercy. Mom thinks the waitress is checking me out. After all her failed attempts, she is still trying to hook me up." Uh-oh - we were walking on dangerous ground. After all, Anna's last attempt had not _exactly_ failed. Of course Ana had lost the game because surely, leaving Pharah sobbing and heartbroken had been the very opposite of what she had intended... but if we were being completely honest, she kind of had won as well. Surely, conversations about romance were not the kind of ice we should be walking on in Ana's presence.

"She is. Just wait," Ana replied confidently.

To my vast surprise, it took only another thirty minutes when we were enjoying more tea and coffee, for the waitress to come over and serve us with an unsolicited piece of chocolate 'on the house', each. We of course conveyed our positive surprise and gratefulness, but it sure was odd. It was even odder that compared to to mine and Ana's plates, Pharah's little chocolate was a speciality that was a lot more decorated than ours.

I felt strangely annoyed with that - certainly not because I felt I had gotten a less special portion.

"Maybe after this, we should pay and take a little walk while the sun is still up. We had so much sugar... I think I need movement to digest it." This suggestion, I realized as I said it, came way too early and sounded way less like an afterthought than I had meant it to sound. "But this is really tasty!" I assured Ana and Pharah quickly after taking a bite of the little chocolate, just to turn the conversation away from my misplaced suggestion.

"Agreed," Ana replied, popping the whole thing into her mouth and smiled. Then she turned to Pharah. "You should ask her out."

"Not interested," Pharah just replied swiftly.

"Why? You don't even know her," Ana pointed out.

"Stop trying to hook me up, mum...!" Pharah returned through gritted teeth.

"Well, you are not doing much yourself in that respect. What is a mother supposed to do?" An amused tone swung in Ana's voice that I really did not like.

My poor, secret girlfriend took a deep breath. I knew her well enough by now to understand that she was getting irritated, but was also reminding herself that this was Ana's bithday and that for the sake of a nice celebration, an argument was not in order. So Pharah got up, said she was going to pay and walked up to the cashier while we finished our drinks.

She returned with an air of displeasure. "She'll be right back. Apparently they ran out of paper for the receipt printer or something." She pocketed her credit card and gave her mother an analytical look - for good reason. Ana's eyes were watching the door through which the waitress had disappeared and that one eye was having a glint in it that made me want to kick the table. Of course she had no idea she was trying to hook up _my girlfriend_ with some random waitress... but that did not really make this any less irritating.

Shortly after the waitress returned. Ana made an effort to be especially nice to her while Pharah and I made an effort to quickly put on our jackets. We made it to the door, dragging Ana with us, but nevertheless, the waitress turned as we left and said: "Come back some time, Miss Amari."

We stepped outside, both sending bitter glances at Ana.

Ana shrugged, raising her hands in a gesture of utter innocence. "She had your credit card. Your name is on there, you know? I was with you two the whole time."

_(To be continued in Chapter 13)_


	13. Day Twenty (Pharah and Mercy win)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((This is the version of events in which Mercy and Pharah win the game - if you want Ana to win the game, please refer to chapter 9))

DAY THIRTY-FIVE (Epilogue)

Mercy was in the kitchen, stirring a strong cup of coffee and preparing tea for Pharah who had promised to join her for a short break. She had been working hard all morning, calling and consulting colleagues, evaluating research and informing herself about state of the art equipment and procedures. Her brain was in tangles and she needed this moment... and Pharah in it, because that tended to make her relax much faster.

The tea was barely done when Pharah appeared, smiling at the sight of her Mercy and stealing a kiss with her arms wrapped around her.

"Hey...!" Mercy laughed. "All the doors are open."

"That's the thrill, isn't it?" Pharah laughed. She gently brushed the bangs out of Mercy's eye just to take a good look at her beautiful face. "But I thought... maybe some time soon, we could make this a little less secret..." 

"Oh... Miss Amari, you are walking dangerously far out of your comfort zone!" Mercy chuckled, snatching another kiss. It was utterly fine with her - whatever Pharah wanted. "You tell me when, okay?"

Pharah smiled. "I'll look for the right opportunity," she promised and disengaged because there were steps outside somewhere on the corridor. It turned out that disengaging from each other for the time being had been a wise decision: It was Ana who walked in and that was surely the wrong person to test the ground on when it came to revealing their relationship. 

"Ah, how good to see you here," Ana said cheerfully, looking at Pharah. "Guess where I was just now, Habibti?" She put a paper bag on the table and started pulling out small boxes. The bag bore the label of the French pâtisserie that they had been at for Ana's birthday celebration. Ana had gotten a nice selection of cake and chocolates from it and was opening the containers, spreading them out on the table. Pharah watched with a suspicious glance, picking up her tea cup and leaning against the hearth, watching her mother.

"Oh! So you really liked their food. That's good - I am glad," Mercy commented, playing over the knot of worry in the pit of her stomach.

"Oh, I did. And guess who I ran into?" Ana asked, sounding almost chatty, which seemed a bit unnatural for her.

Pharah gave Ana a deadpan expression. "The waitress," she pinpointed cooly and added a frustrated "Mum!" to that.

Ana smiled brightly. "She gave me this coupon for you," she said and held up a small card. "She said you should stop by." The grin on Ana's face was way too cheerful and conspiratorial.

Pharah groaned. "You went there on purpose. And you _know_ I am not interested, mum. Can't you just... leave that kind of business to me?" she tried to make a harsh gesture in Ana's direction, but almost spilled her tea with it.

"She is really nice," Ana just replied. "I think you would-"

"Stop it!" Mercy cut in angrily. "Haven't you mingled enough yet?" Her rage caught both Pharah and Ana off guard because it came on so strongly. Ana gave Mercy a curious, interested look. If she had had two visible eyebrows, she probably would have raised one.

"Excuse me, _Dr. Ziegler_? What exactly is your concern with this?"

"Oh, I don't know, Ana?! I think last time you pulled a stunt like this, Pharah ended up heartbroken. I think that should give you ample hints as to how welcome and helpful your matchmaking efforts are!"

"I remember that it was you who was hurting her," Ana reminded her. Pharah cringed.

"Mum! Mercy!" she tried to appease the two women desperately, but it was like they did not even hear her.

"It was _your_ stupid game, _your_ stupid rules and I don't know what you are thinking this did to us, but it was actually a lot of stress, fighting and unhappiness. And _yet_ ," Mercy added, her nostrily flaring in anger, that little red spot appearing on the bridge of her nose, "you are doing it _again_. Pharah is an adult woman. Her love life, her partners, her interests are _none of your business!_ "

"And why, pray tell, Mercy, are they any of _your_ business?" Ana replied with a sharp edge to her voice.

" _Because I love her_!" Mercy yelled back.

The shatter of Pharah's teacup cut through the air, instantly crushing the angry tension between the two other women fighting over her love life. Her eyes were wide, staring at Mercy, trying to grasp and understand what she had just heard. Mercy stared back, realizing the source of Pharah's shock.

"It's true..." Mercy mumbled, looking at Pharah - and she sounded so surprised - like she hadn't even known it herself.

"Mercy...!" Pharah gasped, frozen in her spot, the shattered tea cup at her feet. She did not know what to do. Run to her? Kiss her? Burst into tears? It seemed every part of her wanted to do a different thing. In the end, she decided to run to her, skipping over the tea cup, wrapping her arms around Mercy and planting a firm kiss on her lips. She did not care that her mother was there to witness it all - for all she cared, the whole world could know! Mercy _loved_ her. She was so happy she was almost grinning too much to be able to kiss properly.

For a second, Mercy blinked big blue eyes at her when they disengaged, then she laid her forehead against Pharah and repeated with much more confidence: "I love you."

Ana grabbed one of the chocolates she had brought, then walked to the open door, passing Mercy and Pharah. "Took you long enough to say it," she commented, popped the chocolate into her mouth and left, looking utterly content with the world.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fact of life. Ana _always_ knows. Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Please enjoy my other works.


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